[case]

Username + ID: case 108699
Storyteller: serenity
Choice: A !

[yeena]

Results

The dreamscape only knows how you ended up with more stamps in your hand. They're kind of annoying little things, really.

10 Siesta Stamps.
Cactologist
BlueEyedKite
bluex
L1V1D
Lex.
cinnaliz
Maringue
Voltaire

15 Siesta Stamps.
case
kennymcnenny
certified
BadgerBuddies
knickknacks

20 Siesta Stamps.
Northstar.
Joke's On You
DarkestWerewolf

It's cold, snowy and dark out, but nio notices an oddity among the white sheets of snow beneath their feet. They stop to pick it up and find a piece of stained glass in their hand.
No buildings in the area have stained glass windows, as it's more of a northern thing around here. Odd
+1 Piece of Stained Glass

Winter Shores and Black.Wings are quick on their feet and almost end up tripping over a strange item in their haste to escape.
+1 Uncommon Edit Item (each)

- - -


Responses
Some responses are a bit ahead of the story in the next post, which is totally fine! Just line up the end of your response with wherever it seems to continue in the story.

In response to Cactologist...


Although it seemed like terrible ideas, this mind seemed to be rather naïve and closed off from the world in that sense. They had an innocence to them, perhaps someone that had been sheltered from the corruption around them? Nevertheless, exploring the woods and the property surrounding their home was probably one of the only things that they had constant exposure to. Gravity had other plans for you, though.
The garden shed was a distant memory, a place that you hadn't visited in a long time. Instead of playing in the shed, you had more recent memories on studies of law and culture. Despite this, the fond memories lulled you into a sense of security as you started to rise from your unfortunate tumble to the ground.




In response to BlueEyedKite...


The shed was a formidable choice as the thoughts of spades and other various sharp tools floated through your mind. Creeping through the snow was a relatively easy task, as the black-cloaked figures were more focused on trailing the fleeing members of the crowd, not even noticing you slipping away. It seemed like an easy task, overall. Somehow you could help the people in the building, somehow you could save this family that wasn't your own.
As you continued towards the shed, growing ever closer, you paused at the smell of... gasoline?




In response to bluex...


The shed was old and rickety, with snowflakes falling through a particularly bad hole in the roof and disappearing onto the soggy wooden floor. Despite the richness of the mansion, it seems like the shed did not receive the same treatment as the house. There were various tools on the wall, equally as worn as the building itself. You noticed a spade that looked particularly lethal but honestly, the handle was on the verge of breaking. You sighed and slumped against the ground, taking a break to regulate your breathing and try to take back your wits. Your nerves were shot and you were still trembling from the rush of adrenaline. Hopefully you didn't crash.
You stayed silent in the shed for a couple of minutes, trying to think of a plan, when you heard an oddly familiar crackling sound and could faintly smell smoke. Morbidly curious and also fearing the worst, you poked your head out of the shed to see large orange flames beginning to engulf the side of the mansion. You widened your eyes in shock, horror, surprise: every emotion under the moon went across your face. Tears began to stream down your face as you step outside of the shed, backing away towards the trees that you had opted to avoid. Despite your obvious choice, it seem fate had other plans.




In response to L1V1D...


Fortunately for you, the shed seemed to be trying to cave in on itself from the inside so it looks like you had a lot of options to barricade the door with. You go to grab a larger shovel and shove it under the door to prevent it from opening and... the shovel breaks under the pressure of being wedged under the knob. You sigh in a frustrated defeat before eyeing the rest of the shed around you. It's a bit messy, obviously old, but it seems to hold fond memories. You can take a moment to relax in the quietness of the shed.
Your moment of peace is interrupted by the sharp smell of smoke and ash. Desperation fills your chest again as you swing open the door to the shed and quickly survey the area. You can see flickering flames growing on the side of the mansion, flames that were not there a couple of minutes ago. Panic fills you as you bolt out of the shed and into the forest where you originally sought to avoid. The darkness seemed to almost be welcoming while the flames behind you quickly grew.




In response to Voltaire...


The forest is forgiving to you, possibly because you seem to know it like the back of your hand. An imposturous memory fills your head, of you sprinting through the trees without a care in the world, laughing all the while. Such a scene would bring joy to you on any other trek into the woods. Weaving through the trees is easy, with you taking a couple of extra seconds to even pile branches onto your tracks to act as a deterrent for anyone trying to pursue you.
Venturing further into the woods, you stop briefly when you can see the open field between the trees ahead of you. A nearby pine branch acts as a perfect broom for you to sweep some of the icy snow on top of your fresh tracks, obscuring them to look more like an animal's own. Hunched over and brushing quickly over the prints, you get a tingly feeling in your spine. Not a good one, of course. It almost feels like someone is watching you from afar.
Shivering in a sudden chill not from the cold, you hurriedly finish your task before turning and continuing towards the field.




In response to Knickknacks...


The woods are dark, but they seem oddly welcoming. There is no moonlight to break through the dense trees, but you can almost see sparkles on the ground from the snowflakes. The snow crunches under your feet loudly as you desperately run towards the clearing that might offer you a bit of solace from the chaos at the mansion. Despite the forest seeming so vast and untouched, it seems eerily quiet tonight. It's almost like all of the animals have gone away. You can't help but notice that even the trees are silent, despite the snowflakes falling down, there is no wind to accompany the weather.
Forcing yourself to slow and trudge forward as you near the field, the hairs on the back of your neck begin to stand. Maybe this choice was not as it seemed...

[yeena]

Escapee

Your mind was spinning, the landscape around you never seemed so dizzying. Despite this, you somehow find the chance to think about your next move. You don't know these people but it seems like the strangers that had moved recently into your town and gotten peachy with your dad were the ones responsible for this. It was strange, the betrayal and them being complete strangers to the town. Or were they?
Aggressive shouting from behind you dragged you from your thoughts, fear suddenly going through you once again. The ringleader that seems to be intent on hunting you down is searching the crowd, looking for you. Without thinking too much about it, you veer off from the crowd and try to make yourself seem as small as possible. There's an old gardening shed that you know of, that could provide some coverage until the attention dies down. At least for now. You're slinking away from the crowd and almost around the corner of the mansion before the smell hits you- gasoline, maybe? Gunpowder? It's strong, smoky and pungent. It makes you coil up and lower your nose from the air, glancing around you.
The flames haven't grown yet, they're small. But the yellow and orange licking at the side of the house are undeniable. Your eyes widen and tears almost threaten to fall at the sight of your childhood home burning down. It was a horrific sight, really. The flames were a bright sight against the dark sky and spotless snow. There would be no point in running to the shed now- the fire would spread to it in minutes at this rate. With no where else to go, you decide to turn into the woods and head for the field. Hopefully there you could sit and mull over your options and mourn the people that you didn't even know that you knew.

The trek to the field was easy for you, even though it shouldn't have been. You had never been in this forest before. You had never passed by these trees and yet, the distant memory of you running through the trees with who you could only assume was your family. Tears were flowing down your face and you felt like an imposter- this wasn't even your life, why would you cry over something that wasn't your own? Kneeling in the snow was like a relief from the world around you. Normally the cold would make you shiver and shield away from the sensation and yet today, you basked in the snow on your knees.
Enough to where you didn't hear the quiet crunching behind you.
You can only stiffen as you feel the cold metal of a gun press up against your shoulder blades. Panic once again courses through your veins, combined with adrenaline.
"The boss is looking for you, why don't you make this easy so we can all go home? Well... maybe not you, but you know."


Options
Choice A You want to turn around and face them but you can't. So you just stay frozen in fear, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you mourn your life before it's even gone.
Choice B Your sadness turns into a hateful anger, wondering why this person would be robbed of their life when they haven't seem to have done anything wrong. You look over your shoulder at your perpetrator with a snarl on your face.


Form
Feel free to add a little roleplay blurb to your answer, I will do my best to give a response!


Code: Select all

[b]Username + ID:[/b]
[b]Storyteller:[/b] (link to sheep or use the traveler)
[b]Choice:[/b]

[♔Voltaire♔]

Username + ID: ♔Voltaire♔ (749955)
Storyteller: Cheri
Choice: Choice C : Rizz up the assassin Choice B for "Boutta catch these hands"


Cheri cannot help the dangerous concoction of grief and anger that bubbles in her stomach, and with a sharp snap of her head to look at the assassin, she snarls, hot tears streaming down her face in anguish. The fire looming in the distance reflects in her shaky irises as she stares down the barrel, almost daring the assailant to do something about it.


or better yet


her heart stops in her chest. Her breath hitches and her cheeks flush, and she cannot help but let the next words spill from her lips freely.

"Did I ever say how I've got a thing for assassins?"

[Black.Wings]

Username + ID: Black.Wings 770728
Storyteller: The Traveler
Choice: B, if I’m going out, I’m going out SWINGING

[L1V1D]

Username + ID: L1V1D + 1045332
Storyteller: Chloris
Choice: B - She whirls around, attempting to knock the gun out of the assailants hand with a semi war cry. She was not about to go down without a fight. (I can't do rp fight scenes without someone else LOL)

[rabbit.tears]

Username + ID: cinnaliz 668250
Storyteller: traveler
Choice: ain't no way I'm going down without a fight, b!

[Lex.]

Username + ID: Lex.
Storyteller: Birdie
Choice: B!

[BlueEyedKite]

Username + ID: BlueEyedKite 34400
Storyteller: Glamor
Choice: B (well I feel like Glam would try)

The chill of the weapon against Glamor's skin made her blood run cold. So this was it then. She was caught? After all she had been through to escape? Those innocent faces, gone for good?

Her ears pinned back in anger taking in his matter-of-fact threat." Oh? Looking for me? And how do you know you have the right ewe?"

As she turned to look the criminal in the eye, a wild idea came to mind. She did not know how she got here. She did not know the family within the mansion. Nothing made sense. Maybe she was in a dream? If this was a dream, Glamor could dream-weave. To dream-weave, all the ewe needed to do was: take a deep breath, hold, then let out her inner magic. In the turn of her head she sucked in to fill her lungs, held, then as her eyes could meet the hostile she let out her breath in a rush of an exhale. If this was a dream, minty green smoke, her dream-weave magic, would over take the weapon and convert it into a harmless balloon gun. If she was wrong, well, at least she could pierce him with her wrathful green eyes.

[DarkestWerewolf]

Username + ID: DarkestWerewolf 545676
Storyteller: Lady
Choice: These hands are rated E for EVERYBODY
Choice B baby