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Blackwater Gospel [OOC]

Where all OOC threads for RPs that will take place within the Worlds of Balance will go.

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Aurelia Courville
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Blackwater Gospel [OOC]

Post by Aurelia Courville » Fri Mar 16, 2018 2:06 pm

"Washington is not a place to live in. The rents are high, the food is bad, the dust is disgusting and the morals are deplorable. Go West, young man, go West and grow up with the country!"
— Horace Greeley

The Blackwater Legend is a story of a cursed town that sits on a massive oil reserve, somewhere out in the west of the Americas. It is some vague year in the 1800s, the Frontier era of America. The hunt for the town has grown into a game of sorts, pulling new players in with promises of riches beyond their wildest dreams.

But calling it a game would be misleading. Games, are meant to be fun. Playing at finding Blackwater, almost certainly will kill the players before any hint of this mysterious town is found. Once you begin your path on the search, you can not stop or you will die some mysterious death. There is one out; have another person take your place. The catch? Not very many people are willing to risk their lives for a dream, and you might have to trick them into taking over--a method that can sometimes be worse than death.

There are other obstacles besides death, though some of them may kill you as you search. Other players, Indians, random outlaws that aren’t exactly a part of the game but could steal from and murder you just as easily, and others who just don’t want this place to be found--either to keep the game going or just to keep the town out of mind. There is a reason this place was cursed in the first place. You are not impervious to the dangers of the wild, wild, west.

There will be clues you’ll need to be clever enough to decipher. But beware incomplete or completely wrong information being given to you, if you choose to seek out help from others. This is a curse in more ways than one.

*Players are motivated by individual wants and needs, use this to give your character and the story depth. Dark Western adventure drama. Character Driven. Open.

POST CHARACTER SHEETS HERE! As much or as little as you want to reveal at the moment. There is no real format. And I'll tell you if you've gone too far :)

Questions, comments, concerns--shoot them here, PM me, or find me on Discord~
Au~ :heart: :heart:
There is heat in freezing, be a testament.

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Re: Blackwater Gospel [OOC]

Post by Sammy » Fri Mar 23, 2018 10:20 pm

Just moving this to the OOC section for you, Au!
Please remember to vote here everyday!

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Re: Blackwater Gospel [OOC]

Post by Xalthir » Tue Jun 12, 2018 10:55 am

Antoine Alan Berkley

Profession: Mortician
Occult Interest: Flamespeaker

A cup of tea sat on a night stand near the hearth. Inside a crackling flame enveloped the shape of logs, only a silhouette in the brilliant light. Antoine's hand made for the cup without looking, eyes affixed on the flame. He was alone, here, in his study. The older man, nearly fifty, had more time these days to think than he'd ever imagined himself comfortable with. Shifting slightly in the chair he raised the glass to his lips and took a sip. Minty with a hint of ginger, a spiced tea. He liked that. He liked very little.

Outside the patter of rain could be heard reverberating against the glass panes of his windows. A flash of light burst through the curtains and moments later thunder rolled and rattled his bones.

"Abominable weather lately." He muttered to the fire. "Absolutely horrid."

The fire seemed to flicker in response as if questioning his statement. Antoine sighed. "I told you, I do not hunt in the rain. It's bad for business. Besides, you don't like water, remember? The last time I took you out in the briefest wind you nearly toppled over in fright." He said, shaking the cup at the flame.

It seemed to wither and Antoine groaned. "Fine. You want to go out? We'll go out. But no hunting! Not tonight." He warned, rising from the seat summoning a series of ill-sounding cracks. Getting old was far more difficult than he’d ever anticipated. Nobody had prepared him for the aching and frustration that came with it. Sure, his mind was sharp. Sharp as a nail. But his body? It could use work.

He stepped over to the furnace and drew out a poker from the stand on the right. Slowly he pushed it into the flame.

Miraculously the fire clambered up onto the poker and infused itself into the metal causing it to glow with a bright white light like that of smelting iron.

"My umbrella..." Antoine said, sweeping the room. It was leaning up against his chair. He snatched it off the ground and downed what remained of his tea before heading for the door, the sound of the ticking wall-clock muffled by his exit. Then it was down the stairs, through the foyer, and out the front.

Overhead clouds heavy with rain swelled and poured their grief onto the world. Antoine opened up his umbrella as the poker hissed. “Don’t get antsy on me now, you wanted this.” He insisted, stepping onto the pavement and down the street.

It was a horrible day.

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