[Forum Game] Gods Amongst Men: Awakening

[Noco19]

Prologue

It is October 15th, 2016 in our world, a time where superheroes are firmly a thing of film and comics, where powers are something dreamed of by children, not seriously regarded in this time of technological progress. Most everyone is too busy in their lives to give much thought to such flights of fancy, to really consider the possibility of superhumans in their midst.

But it is October 15th, 2016, and after today such a luxury will not be afforded to the world, and soon the question must be answered: how will the world look when Gods walk amongst Men?

How To Play

GAM returns, but now very different. Just as I've removed a great deal of the campiness, so too have I changed the mechanics for how this game will run. Both as a test-run for a future project's viability and simply because I love narrative-driven games, GAM: Awakening will be wholly driven by ICs and player choices.

How will this look? For one, this game will be heavily reliant on the players, whether that's making decisions, introducing options for where they want to go and so on. Because of this and my desire to make a very focused adventure, I forsee this game having a core base of 4-5 players, who will be the generative force behind the game as a whole. Yes, I have been drafting story arcs and yes I will be introducing antagonists/plot points/general information, but player reaction and interaction will be the key point of action, facilitated through ICs.

I am giving players a strong degree of freedom when describing the specifics of their setting as well as their interactions with side-characters. Undoubtably, this game will require a hefty level of cooperation with your fellow players through joint-ICs, and cooperation with me when dealing with important events - like talking to an important NPC or taking a strong action. I understand this sounds vague, and that is because it simply is. We won't be having real stats nor concrete mechanics as some may be used to, but I hope that this freedom fosters creativity.

Spoiler: IRC Channel

IRC Channel

Link: Coldfront

Channel: #GAM

Instructions:

1) Use the link provided above.

2) Choose the Flash app or the Java app.

3) Create a screen name; it’s recommended that you use your forum name, if available.

4) Close the #coldfront channel that opens automatically.

5) In the command box, type “/join #GAM” without the quotation marks.

6) You’re in the chat! Welcome!

General Guidelines

• Pretty standard, no metagaming, powergaming, and the like
• Keep it PG-13, don't get freaky with it, this is an adventure, not a teenage romp. Some romance is fine
• Paradox Rules, of course, apply
• Other common sense rules that I have failed to specifically list out

Table of Contents

Cast List
Codex

 

[Noco19]

The Cast of Gods Amongst Men: Awakening

Angela White - Oxfordroyale

Riley Drake - Pluto

Matthew Moore - Sneaky

Ian Alexander Thompson - RobespierreReborn

Dominic Reynolds - Aedan​

 

[Noco19]

Codex
​

A Newcomer's Guide to Karham

 

[Noco19]

Reserved

 

[Noco19]

October 15th, 2016​

"This is Jean Larue giving you a good morning with a Knightly News Alert: authorities have confirmed that a meteor has in fact made impact in Karham this past night, inflicting damages to the Southern Bay Bridge. Mayor Belo has released a statement assuring that repairs to the bridge will be swift, but until then, traffic must be redirected along the Northern Bay Bridge, so make sure to expect heavy traffic.

Scientists across the nation now flock to our city to investigate this rock, including our own special guest this morning - Doctor Will Prichard. Welcome Doctor, let-"

"Actually Jean, it's a meteorite, a meteor is by definition burned away in its journey through our atmosphere."

"Aha, yes, sorry, a meteorite. Now, can you tell our listeners whether or not they should be worried about the meteorite?"

"Of course not Jean, absolutely nothing to fear. Although coming from space, there's no need to be panicked about any sort of alien contaminants or what have you entering our waters. The health of the Bay will be much the same, but I am positive that many researchers will come around and make sure to for-sure prove this correct. Besides, if you have to worry about something, it's the pollutants ignored by the city-"

"And that's all the time we have at the moment, thank you Doctor Prichard and we hope to have you on in future. Up next - who has the cutest puppy in all of Karham!? The answer may shock you!"

___

As the city of Karham awakens, nearly every news-station reports on the event of the week, the collision of a meteorite within the city proper. Although sensationalized, all it truly meant was yet another topic the media would harp on for far too long, just another string of blabbering that would pass in one ear and out the other for the average Karhamite, the only true importance coming from the Southern Bay Bridge closing, an inconvenience that would no doubt dominate this morning's whining.

Karham geared itself for another mundane day, but would it have one?

___

GM Note: Alright, we're now open for business. We begin on the morning of the 15th, and as you can see, the only thing really different about today is the meteorite and the closing of the Southern Bay Bridge, which surely won't have any sort of interesting outcomes.

For now, I expect everyone to do some preliminary pre-powers IC, which can predate the 15th if you want. So you can IC about something from last week leading to today, and so on. Just give us a glimpse of your day.

All I ask is that somehow, you throw out some sort of catalyst or reason why your character needs to take the 2:30 P.M Ferry from the West to the East side of the Bay, so we can prep for our first main event. I tentatively state that I am planning to write/post that very event on Monday-ish, so try to wrap everything up by then if you plan on doing multiple ICs. I'll play it by ear though, so if you guys for whatever reason want to keep doing pre-powers IC, I can give you a little more time.

Post away.

 

[Sneakyflaps]

Friday 14th 7:05 AM
​

It was that beep, the most annoying one that Matthew knew and he heard it every single morning as his alarm went off for that day. The sunlight each day had already begun to decline as the winter months drew nearer. Matthew looked out the window, it was foggy this morning, making him want to stay in bed under his covers as he moved around in the bed, forcing himself to get up after the snooze went off and the alarm ringed in his ear.

He slowly sat up in his bed, his eyes still heavy as he just sat and pulled the blanket around him once more before looking up and shaking his head. He had slept in his boxers and favorite shirt, and as always he went over and turned down the heat in his room, before opening the door and going into his living room. His apartment had a large living room, a kitchen and bathroom, as well as two separate rooms, the smaller of which was currently occupied by his younger sister. The living room was split into two different parts, to the left when you entered through the main door was a large couch covering the wall opposite of his television, along with a low table where his laptop and two medical books currently resided. To the right was a dining table and chairs, and a series of shelfs, one of them a bookshelf which all lined between the couch and the window which shined light into the apartment.

Matthew sat down with a glass of milk, waking up to the noise of the TV before he finally got dressed for his run. It was standard running clothes, nothing special, and his mp3player, his list of old songs, and some newer that he always listened to while he was out jogging. However as he passed his sisters room he saw that she still wasn’t up and it was nearing 7:30. For all his knocking on her door he only got muffed responses in return, telling him to go away and leave her alone. It wasn’t until he took his water bottle and spayed her with it, having already spent ten minutes waiting for her that she finally woke up with a jump from her bed. He sighed and looked at her “How late did he leave?” Matthew asked as he looked at her, leaning against the door.

“What?” She said, her heart racing as she pulled her blanket around her “What the fuck did you do that for?”

Matthew simply smiled, happy with himself. “Unless my socks learned to crawl then that isn’t mine.” He said pointing towards the sock that lay near her bed.

Laura just shook her head and feigned innocence as she looked up at him, almost pleadingly to which he just shook his head with a laugh, “Just get up and get ready.” He said as he turned and went out the main door.

Despite the fog it was rather warm this morning, not that Matthew cared overly much as he began his route, first running about a mile down the streets where he lived. He ran past the butcher and the fishmonger, Matthew always hated the smell here, much preferring to shop at the butchers whenever he was to cook for himself, actually he needed some bacon on the way back. It was a normal morning, people waiting on the bus to go to work, cars both old and new waiting for the light to turn green so they could get on with their day.

As he passed the streets and went on towards the park he passed the children who stood waiting on their school bus to come pick them up, ages varied but it was abundantly clear that the young ones, unlike the older pupils weren’t in a zombie morning state. He knew, well knew and knew, some of the older ones who his father coached for school football, they had recently had a series of game and would have another next week, the last one they could have before Matthew’s father would take the week off to go to the wedding.

The park wasn’t too big, but still of decent size. Leafs had begun to fall and turn orange, a few fish could be seen in the pond as he passed it as he went through the park. He passed the woman who always walked her dog, it was a damn fluffy dog that always seemed to take pride in its fluffiness. It always pulled the woman along as she pushed the baby stroller forward. The baby was about four months, or at least that was when she had begun walking with it, or perhaps they just moved in four months ago. Matthew always said hello to her and she always responded in kind with a smile as she went on with her walk.

As he jogged out of the park he passed the local mall before he began to turn around, running back home to his apartment, in total he had run about six miles and did so every day before work, unless he had night shifts. There was only one thing left to do before he got home, the stop by the butcher. He had his regular, the butcher already knowing as he entered and a smile formed on the butchers lips as he asked if Matthew wanted the usual. A few pieces of thinly cut ham along with pieces of bacon, which the butcher cut while Matthew paid, before they said bye and Matthew left the store, running back to the apartment and up the stairs and into his apartment.

It was about 8:15 when he returned, his sister already having left as he looked around the apartment before putting the ham and bacon in the fridge, turning on music. He picked up a couple of towels and went into the bathroom, taking a nice bath and ridding himself of the sweat before he dried himself and put his boxers and shirt back on.

Matthew went into the kitchen, taking the ham and bacon out of the fridge and let it rest for five minutes as he found a pan and poured himself a glass of water which he drowned in one go. As the bacon had rested, getting back to room temperature he took the pan, adding just a tiny bit of oil before he put it on the stove. He placed the bacon down as it started simmering, while getting out a tomato and a cucumber. He began to cut them into smaller pieces, sprinkling them with a bit of salt before he began roasting the bread.

As if in unity it all finished in the right order as the finished, nice and golden as Matthew took it, placing one piece down on a place, a bit of butter on the lower side before he placed the ham, then the bacon followed by the pieces of tomato and cucumber, it was a greasy combo and a lovely taste bomb, just how he loved his morning sandwich. He took the plate and went into the living room, dancing and singing along rather poorly to the music as he put the plate down and turned on the TV, shutting off the music as he listened to the morning news.

Nothing new, mostly about the presidential debate, now if only it would end sometime soon as it was getting very dull and annoying. In other news some guy had been shot and the police was seeking aid, schools doing worse and the young people are in need of better guidance as they spend way too much time in front of the PC, the same old stuff. At least it looked like the sun was going to shine later in the day, at least one positive thing.

As he finished his sandwich he wiped his mouth with a napkin before getting up to dress for the day. Picking out a tan suit, light blue shirt and navy blue tie and leather shoes, now all he waited for was the call from Lisa that she was there, and when he got it he turned off the TV, picked up his bag and went down into the car.

It was a slow car ride, the road construction between SoCo and Southby not helping it in the slightest, luckily they avoided much of the morning traffic by not having to meet before 11:45 that day. As they finally neared the hospital, Lisa curled her lips into a smile and looked at Matthew, “Twenty bucks that your first patient has the claps.”

“Deal.” Matthew said as they get out of the car, going into each of their locker rooms where Matthew left his jacket before putting on his lab coat.

There were many patients already sitting and waiting for a doctor to see them. The clinic itself was free so any person could come and receive aid, a good reason why there were such a great mix of proper citizens and the unfortunate left behind by society. The nurse behind the counter greeted Matthew and gave him a chart, telling him to go into examine room 3, which he did where he saw a patient sitting, waiting for him. Matthew looked at the young man as he went over to him, reading the journal, “So what’s the issue?”

The young man looked nervous as he frowned and looked down, “Um... it’s... down there.” He said as he pointed at his crotch. Matthew merely sighed internally, there went twenty bucks.

 

[Plutonium95]

Friday The 7th​

“At boat race, how is that front page news?” Riley asked, looking over Megan’s shoulder at the lead story in the Karham Times as she entered the kitchen, just having woken up. Her adopted mother just shrugged without looking up. By this time in the morning it was just the two of them, Jack having already gone to his job on the docks, and Mitch, her twelve-year-old adopted brother, being at school.

“It’s nice,” she countered mildly, flipping to the next page. “Better than every story being about something terrible like that hurricane in Haiti.”

“Sure, but like, there’s got to be way more important stuff to report on. What about everything with the election?” She asked rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Megan looked up at Riley from her seat and laughed. “Hey, if everyone were the type of journalist you want to be then there wouldn’t be any jobs for you, right?”

Riley chuckled half-heartedly, her mind still foggy from the previous night’s party. She decided it wasn’t a good morning for an argument, even if it was one that she had had with people a hundred times since she started working for the school newspaper back in high school. Instead she went to the fridge and poured herself some juice. “Anything big going on this week?”

“Nothing much,” Megan replied. “We’re looking to line up a big donation from Mr. Kent, the one who gave all that money to the hospital. We’ll see if anything comes of it.” She looked up from her paper. “Oh, and before I forget, next Saturday we’re going to need you to take Mitch to the whaling museum.”

“What?” Rily asked, quite annoyed at the prospect of having to waste her Saturday looking at rusty hooks and whale skeletons. “Why?”

“Because he needs to go for a paper he’s writing, and Jack and I are helping my sister move.”

Riley rolled her eyes. “Can’t he just like look up whales on Wikipedia or something?” Megan just stared at her, like all moms seem to know how to. “Ugh, fine,” she groaned. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s about it,” Megan said cheerily. “Thanks Riles.”

“Yup,” she replied, taking a slice of bacon off of the plate on the counter. “I’m out of here then, see ya tonight.”

“Wearing that?” Megan looked pointedly at her torn up jean shorts and black tank top. “It’s the middle of October.”

“Megan, it’s like seventy degrees out.” Riley said, rolling her eyes once again.

“At least take a jacket.”

Riley yielded, tying a light hoodie around her waist in case it suddenly dropped twenty degrees, before sending Mitch a quick text to tell him that he sucks and heading out the door.

The trip to Karham University Campus was relatively quick, and soon Riley burst out of the University Square metro station, hurrying through the main yard when she got a message from her friend Eric that simply said “911”. She entered his dorm, catching the door just as someone was walking out, and went up to his room.

“So what’s the problem?” She asked.

Eric simply pulled her into the room, his smile growing wider. Eric was a good bit taller than her, reaching nearly six foot three, and he was in surprisingly good shape for someone who refused to play sports. She’d met him during her first week on campus when his band was playing at a house party and they had hit it off. “You’re not going to believe this one.”

As she entered the room she noticed a pink bra discarded near the foot of Eric’s bed. “One of yours,” she asked, pointing to it.

Eric raised an eyebrow in confusion as he looked to where she had pointed. “What, oh, no. That must’ve been that girl from the party.” Riley remembered and wasn’t terribly surprised. “But, believe it or not, I didn’t tell you to come here to look at bras. No, I was able to get us the tickets to the Rise Against show next Saturday, it’s gonna be awesome!”

Riley slumped her shoulders, sighed, and leaned back against the wall. “Fuck me.”

“Well…ok,” Eric said with a smile.

“Shut up. I’m saying I can’t go, I promised Megan I would take Mitch to the museum on Saturday.” She ran a hand through her blonde hair and let out an annoyed huff.

“Come one, the concert’s not until eight, how long are you gonna be at the museum for?”

Riley just shrugged.

“No seriously, get him to the museum by like three, get home by six at the latest, then we meet up and go, it’ll be fine.” Eric said, his usual confidence on full display.

“Yeah…that should actually work.” She said, beginning to smile.

“Right! Now go away, I have to get ready for class.”

Riley flipped him off as she left the room, heading to her first class for the day.

 

[aedan777]

Mornings are the Worst​

Dominic Reynolds pushed the pillow harder against his ear, pressing his head deeper into his bed. It was to no avail though, no matter how much he tried, he couldn't drown out the irritating tunes of the stupid pop music blaring from his alarm clock. Resigning himself to the unfortunate necessity of awakening, Dominic threw off his sheets and pillow, clawing his way to the edge of his bed, then groping out with his right arm to smack his alarm into silence. Having difficulty reaching it, he stretched out further, straining himself far more than he wished for this early in the morning. Unfortunately his left arm was supporting him from a rather precarious position, and in his struggles it slipped off the edge of his bed and the rest of his body swiftly followed.

Dominic let out a long and exhausted groan as he lay in a sprawled heap, with the obnoxious tunes still roaring in his ears. Irritated and no longer tired, he swung his arm up and slammed his clenched fist repeatedly into the alarm clock until it stopped. Surprisingly the clock wasn't broken after all this abuse, which was a daily occurance, more or less. The time could still be clearly read on it: 9:07 a.m. A disgustingly early time to Dominic. Forcing someone to get up before noon should be illegal, he thought. And of all the ways to wake him up it had to be with a stupid pop radio station. It wasn't that he didn't know how to change the alarm settings to get a better wake up call, he was sure it would be easy to figure out if he read the directions. Wherever they were. But that'd be a lot of time spent, and there were many things he'd rather do. Like sleep. Or surf the internet. Or play a video game. Just about anything really.

Continuing to groan and mumble about retarded alarm clocks, Dominic slowly lifted himself up, and directed his stumbles to the bathroom of his small apartment. Some might call it messy, but it wasn't really. He knew where everything important was, and it was all organized by its place. His rig was set-up on a decent looking desk, his bag was by the door, and his small media collection was meticulously organized in a way only he could understand. The clothes thrown around the room were also quite organized, and he had never lost an article of clothing. Not that he remembered at least. A bunch of microwavable food was in his fridge, or spread on an old table. He kicked some empty cardboard boxes out of his way, they were probably from things he had shipped recently. Clearly it was all carefully arranged and maintained, not messy in the slightest.

Dominic knew this to be true as he entered his dingy little bathroom and groped in the darkness for the shower curtain, then dragged himself into it, turning it on after a couple blind tries. Sure, he could go get a replacement light for the bathroom, or call someone to fix it. But that would cost him time and money, and time is money, so it'd be costing him a lot of time. You didn't really need light in the bathroom after all, and if you left the door open, some light filtered in from his main room. All much easy than the hassle of unnecessarily going to a store or contacting someone to enter his abode. He supposed he could just order some bulbs online, but it's not like he knew the type of bulb he needed anyways, and even that solution would still cost time and money. As he continued to grope around for his soap and shampoo, he was sure this was the best solution for his problem.

Once he finished, Dominic moved on to seek out his towel, and commence drying off. It didn't take long, and soon he was on the prowl for clothes for the day. The one good thing about his job was the very lax protocol regarding uniform. Working as a courier meant long hours and lots of physical exertion, but at least he didn't have to wear some godawful outfit while doing it. Course, the little interaction he needed with his boss and coworkers was nice too, mostly just exchanging texts with them about drop-offs and pick-ups. But forcing him to work on Saturday should be illegal. He had important things to waste the day on.

Dominic's quiet grumbling never ceased as he pulled his clothes on, a simple t-shirt and jeans, with a denim jacket. A quick check of his phone confirmed that today's task would be particularly annoying. Taking some retarded package across the bay. He'd need to take the ferry, and that was such a bore. Well, it beat walking around, if only marginally. Letting out one last groan, Dominic picked up his duffel bag, and left his well maintained apartment, locked the door behind him, and went on to his stupid job.

Mornings are the worst.

 

[Sneakyflaps]

Friday 14th 20:36 PM​

Matthew gave Lisa the twenty on their way home, it was late and as they drove he called the local pizzeria, ordering a number seven to be delivered in twenty five minutes. They should be at his home in about ten minutes, giving him just enough time to get up the stairs, out of the suit and turn on the TV. Lisa was overjoyed, almost radiant. It was the first full weekend she had gotten off in over a month and she had planned it all out. She had a young daughter, around three or four, Matthew coudnt entirely remember which number it was. Normally it Lisa’s husband taking the weekends when she was at work, but this weekend they would watch frozen, go to the zoo, watch that new Disney movie about the animals, all sorts of things. Matthew couldn’t help but think it was part guilt that drove her, guilt for so often being away at least partially on the weekends.

As she dropped him off he hurried inside, the weather was surprisingly cold tonight, much colder than it had been yesterday. As he entered the apartment he called out for his sister, who by no surprise didn’t respond as she had left a note saying she had left to go out with friends. This meant one out of two things, she would not come home until the following noon, or Matthew would be woken up at either four or five in the night by someone drunkenly slumbering through the front door, and it would probably be the latter.

Unsurprisingly as he turned on the TV the news said exactly the same as they did fourteen hours ago, Police was still looking for the man who had shot the victim in Southby, schools were still doing worse, and the presidential candidates, much to Matthew’s disappointment, were both still running, all in all it was exactly as one would expect.

Luckily for Matthew it didn’t take long before the doorbell rang as the pizza guy stood outside in the cold, waiting to be led in. He knew every one of them hating delivering to him, living on the fifth floor with no elevator, it took a bit of time to get used to but by now the stairs crossed his mind. On the good side for them, he normally tipped a bit more if for nothing else because he never really carried small change and just let them keep the bill he had on him at the time, unless it was much larger the actual cost itself.

Steam rose from the box as he put it down on the table, going out and washing his hands before he came back and opened the box. It was a simple pizza with peperoni and a few different kinds of cheese, not his favorite pizza, but certainly his favorite from that place, they made this very good pizza, but most of the others were less attractive. It was already precut as he took a slice and began eating, looking back at the TV, tonight something far more interesting, the debate about who would be the coming mayor of the city, with the two candidates against each other on local TV.

As he finished eating and the debate had been on for some time he turned it off, it was an utterly dull debate, he wasn’t sure if he had different expectations after the latest presidential debates, but this mayor one was certainly dullness itself. He had a slight hope as he picked up his phone and opened tinder, hoping to have something but simply swiped past what he was matched with before giving up, turning on his PC and playing a match of League. It may be for the best anyway, now that he had a long day ahead of him tomorrow, already having to wake up early on his weekend to catch a damned ferry and help his sister with some wedding crap, not to mention getting a new suit for the occasion.

 

[Noco19]

GM Note: Tapscott has resigned, so I bid him farewell. After deliberation, I've decided to sub in Robespierre Reborn as Ian Alexander Thompson (AKA Cosmo X) as a replacement.

To the newcomer and to those who've yet to IC, please try to get those in ASAP, as I'd like to kick off the fun-times soon.

 

[Mikkel Glahder]

The Nightmare Stage
​

Why was he sweating? He had been on the stage with this show, a little more than ten times and he had never been nervous before. Whatever 'magic' he did, the fancy folks of Karham clapped, laughed or showed strong feelings. His art was to get people to show their inner feelings. But whatever he did today, no reaction came from the audience. Whatever he tried nothing happened. And it never stopped, the show continued for hours and hours with no reactions from anyone. Nobody moved or made noises. Were they scared of making a sound? Ian really didn't know what to believe. Suddenly, a man came over to him and said the dreaded words that were usually uttered before a show started: "The show has been cancelled." Before he could ask any questions, the light went on again and all seats where full, not of people, but of silhuettes and although they didn't have eyes, he could feel their icecold stare. Ian looked up as the light was suddenly coming from the sun and not the lights inside. The dark, shadowy figures where still there. They were however, not staring at him, but at the sky in a bizarre fashion with their neck titled in a ninety degree angle. In a second they all got up and stared right at him, with dark red eyes, and they cried red tears. Blood he was sure. The eyes where not in the eye sockets, but rather in the neck, so their neck was still tilted. He was now in a cave of sorts with a low ceiling and only a small hole where light could come through in the far side of the cavern. He knew he had to go through his dark sides to get things right and he began to walk through the crowd that now surrounded him. Many of the shadows just moved out his way, staring at him with judgemental eye. Suddenly, one of them grabbed him and he could see into it. A scene from 2 years ago when he had scoffed at a man begging for help, his legs missing. It had been haunting him ever since. He began to run, but even if he ran until he passed out, the light moved double the distance away from him. He ran and ran, until his legs couldn't carry him and he fell. He couldn't stand up, as if his feet where part of the floor. As the shadows moved ever so closer, still fixing their eyes at his. As they edge closer, one of them touched him and suddenly, he was alone and could control his own body once more. He turned on the lights and sat up. He was sweating and his sheets were marked by that. He went out in the kitchen and poured himself a glass of whiskey on the rocks to calm his nerves. As he went to the living room, he took up his plan and read it out loud to himself: "I have a show at Easbank Grand Theatre huh'. I have to take the ferry it seems." He paused to drink and said: "Not too bad of a place. Vibrant and full of anticipating people and interesting girls."
He turned on his television to watch news, but it was all the same. The two candidates participating in mudslinging. But then he stumpled upon something he had not seen. A meteorite that had just fallen down. As he was not particularly interested he turned off the TV and focused on his drink and a book written by Jules Verne. 'Paris in the 19th Century'.

​

 

[Noco19]

GM Note: To all those who have yet to IC (read: @oxfordroyale), I'm setting a deadline to be the end of Monday. If you haven't ICed by then, you will be removed and replaced.

 

[oxfordroyale]

A Cold Morning​

Angela yawned and blinked to clear her vision.

Dawn had only just broke, and like her, Karham was still in the process of waking from its slumber – that is, if a city of several million could ever truly sleep. She clutched her warm mug to her chest, watching through floor-to-ceiling windows as the city began stirred fifty floors below her, the night banished by a pale winter sun. Though the sky was clear the wind howled as if there was a snow storm, and despite the thick glass Angela felt an imagined chill. She took another sip of coffee to drive it away, thankful that she had chosen to put on a robe.

On a street below two cars collided – far too slowly to be called a crash, though not enough that no damage was caused. Angela watched as two men exited their cars and began shouting and cursing at each other in the middle of traffic. They appeared no more than ants from her height, but she could picture the anger on the faces as if they were right in front of her. I wonder what it must be like, she thought distractedly. To be preoccupied with such trivial things. For one’s life to be of so little consequence.

Hardwood creaked softly behind her as someone came padding into the living room. Before Angela could turn, a pair of feminine arm circled her waist, accompanied by a giggle.

“Last night was lovely,” the girl purred in her ear, her bare body pressing sensually against Angela’s back. “It was … I’ve never had anything like it.”

Angela did not face her. “You’re still here? Perhaps it was too much to hope that you’d already left.”

The blond beauty released her and took half a step back before laughing nervously. “That’s not very funny, Angie.”

She turned and fixed the freshman with a cold glare. “Clearly you are too slow to take a hint. Leave. Now.”

The girl – she had forgotten her name – recoiled from her utterly dispassionate gaze, tears studding her eyes as the warmth of a few moments ago gave way to hurt. “But – I don’t understand. We –”

“Charles has your things.” Angela interrupted, indicating over the girl’s shoulder. Her grey-haired butler stood in the doorway with a pile of clothes in hand, his face a mask of stone. Megan gasped and tried to cover herself, causing the corner of Angela’s mouth to twitch upwards before she could catch it.

“Now get out. Speak of this to no one.” It was a command, not a request.

The younger girl burst into tears of sudden confusion and shame, too shocked to do anything but dress quickly and leave without another word. Angela sighed and returned to her window-gazing, draining her coffee in a futile attempt to alleviate the fog of sleep that stubbornly clung to her mind – she needed her full mental acuity for the day ahead. It was a pity about the girl. The sex had been incredible, but beneath her golden curls was the brain of a simpleton. Angela was not willing to waste her valuable time on someone whom she couldn’t even carry a conversation with, and so an abrupt severing of ties had been needed. Besides, she couldn’t deny the delight she felt in crushing the hopes of small, innocent little creatures.

“Something weighing on you, mistress?”

Angela closed her eyes. “Nothing that need concern you, Charles. Fetch my suit and then bring the car around front – we’re leaving.”

“To see your father?”

Angela winced despite herself. “Yes. I would think the blue suit best for the occasion – and don’t forget the Louis Button heels.”

“Of course, mistress.”

She looked out over the city once more, all the way east to where the Karham ferry was already crossing the Bay. Her father had summoned her to a meeting in Gull Sound with some prospective investors, and she did not mean to be late.

 

[oxfordroyale]

((Sorry for the wait everyone. College has been taking up a lot of my time but I'll try to be more active once we get into the swing of things!))

 

[Noco19]

All Aboard
October 15th, 2016 | 2:28 p.m​

The mournful horn of the ferry suppressed the mindless chatter of the crowd, its aged frame pulling into dock, bearing the character of a vessel used to wear-and-tear. Lovingly, the nickname "Big Gus" was painted unto its side in deep red. Just about everyone knew about the Big Gus, but virtually no one really knew the origin of the name. It simply was what it was, a big ole boat.

Typically a sizable amount of folks waiting for the ferry, the anxious passengers were nearly triple the norm, all thanks to the closing of the Southern Bay Bridge. Businessmen with too-tight ties, mothers with whining children, and your standard bunch of artsy hipsters who pride themselves on reading intellectual works while looking across the bay, the rays dancing off their oversized glasses. As the Big Gus neared, the crowd grew palpably more active, the impatient pushing and shoving, those in front trying to push forward to where they could board.

Perhaps a miracle, the Big Gus opened up at 2:30 precisely, allowing in a torrent of passengers. And surely a double-miracle, not one fight or scuffle broke out despite the unruliness of the Karhamites, though not for lack of trying. One passenger, taking a moment to double over coughing, billowing what was assuredly a classic smoker's lung of smoke, delayed those behind him for moments - truly a stain on their day judging from the reactions - but even he was spared anything more than a verbal reaming. All in all, it was orderly, and folks settled down for a voyage across the Bay.

But a few of the passengers were not feeling quite...right. There was a feeling within the stomachs of Angela White, Riley Drake, Matthew Moore, Ian Thompson, and Dominic Reynolds, a feeling of uncertainty. It wasn't foreboding, it wasn't sickness, just something was off, and not all in the same sort of fashion.

Ms. White had a peculiar sensation, almost like the sound of a television broadcasting static. It was a rumbling feeling, unfocused but certainly there. It came in waves, like a heartbeat but much more irregular, like a waterfall of white noise but quiet and in her head.

Ms. Drake had felt something else, a stiffness in her fingers that seemed to trace its way up her arms, her chest, and into her spine. Certainly she could move and flex her fingers, but when she did, the feeling changed altogether, from frigid to fluid, only to rebuild itself as she stopped.

Mr. Moore on the other hand felt like he had wearing socks on carpet for hours. It was just perceptible, a sort of clinging static that hung around his extremities, but it didn't confine itself to materials that made sense. Clasping his hands together, it certainly felt as if it would take force to separate them. The metal railings of the ferry didn't look too inviting to touch.

Mr. Thompson felt the inverse in his hands. He was not beset with static surrounding him, but a strange feeling within his hands themselves. Like a hum but physical, they jittered to a point almost undetectable, something one could write off as shakiness if not for that persistent warmth that flared in his palms.

Mr. Reynolds received his own share of sensations, an influx of information that left him a bit frazzled. He felt a breeze, but it came from below; he felt the rays of the sun on the nape of his neck while facing its direction; a man beside him sneezed, but it sounded like a tambourine instead, yet no one else made note of it. Strange and abundant oddities such as these may have left him questioning his own sanity.

Another long honking of the ferry horn inaugurated the trip eastward, and for the majority of the passengers, they resigned themselves to staring with boredom ahead or at their phones. It was, after all, just a normal day.

___

GM Note: Alright fellows, this is the beginning of the BIG EVENT to come hopefully tomorrow. The next update will take place in-game at 2:39, so basically shortly after this update. With that in mind, and so as not to delay the game, you guys feel free to IC your reaction to this, but if you don't have time, just tell me you are abstaining. That way, people who want to IC can, and people who don't want to can not delay up things.

 

[Mikkel Glahder]

Ian sat down on a chair at a window and looked out on Karham and the water, trying to think on something else than his hands that were his primary concern. He was looking forward to his show later that day and thought:
"Am I nervous? I shouldn't be. I'm not afraid of sailing so can't be that... or can it? I'm not usually on a boat... Why are my palms warm though, they don't"
His stream of thoughts were stopped by a group of fans and he agreed to give them autographs and selfies, so he once more could sit in peace.
He felt his hands shaking, but he could not sense any movement in them with his eyes, nor could he explain the warmth coming from them. He decided to go outside on the deck and felt the October breeze, which was not particularly warm, but after a few minutes his hands did not cool down, rather the opposite making Ian quite anxious of his health and questioning himself, whether or not he was right in not going to the doctor for his yearly check-up.
"Am I sick with something nasty with this being a precursor? I should have gone to the doctor after all... I wonder if they have any good doctors of a certain quality in the east. Not that it really matters..."
He decided to stay outside. He felt on his hands again and again, trying to work out what was wrong with them and thought if he had forgotten something for the show. He decided to open spotify and listen to some music. He had decided on some good ol' jazz to calm his hands. Whatever psychological effect he thought this had, he was certainly wrong because the jittering and heat in his hands did not go away. It felt as if the more he tried to ignore it, the more he could feel it. It was almost like his hands didn't want to be part of his body, like his body trying to expel his hands from the rest. He decided to sit down once more and try to live with it, even though it made him anxious.

 

[aedan777]

Completely Sane​

Dominic was worried. He wasn't insane, he was as sure as that as ever, but it was difficult for him to explain away what was apparently a series of sensory hallucinations. He wasn't hearing voices, at least not yet, but it seemed he was the only one who was hearing odd sounds. When he first heard the sound of a tambourine when a man appeared to sneeze he put on a befuddled face, and looked at some of his fellow passengers quizzically, but none of them seemed to have heard anything unusual. Perhaps alone he could've just dismissed it as something they didn't hear because they were paying attention to something else, or he had mistaken the sound out of boredom. But feeling the sea breeze coming up from the deck, and feeling the sun beating down in the shade, those weren't so easily brushed off.

Granted, Dominic hadn't questioned his fellow passengers about his predicament, so perhaps it was a larger phenomena than his own senses. But he had no idea how such a phenomena would even occur, and he was sure even if he had the presence of mind to avoid potentially sounding like a madman by asking strangers if they felt wind from the ground or random sounds, other people would be less introspective about such oddities. Someone else would've said something, or at least reacted in surprise as their senses were at odds with one another. But no one appeared to have such issues, effectively confirming to Dominic that whatever was going on was inside his head. Not that he was insane of course, insane people didn't realize there was anything unusual with their symptoms.

Of course this still left the obvious question of what exactly was going on. His senses weren't dulled, just acting erratic. Had it been the former, he could just chalk it up to a lack of sleep, or general weariness. Hearing and feeling things that weren't there came from insanity, drugs, or extreme conditions, such as dehydration or days without sleep. Certainly he was hungry and upset about getting up so early today, but not not even remotely close to the extent he should be suffering from hallucinations. And he'd never done drugs. Perhaps someone had managed to drug him somehow? Though Dominic wasn't aware of any drug that just caused a person to hallucinate while leaving their mental faculties fully functional. Nor could he imagine why someone would slip him such a drug. Maybe they'd want the package he was carrying in the duffel bag for his job, but surely there were more effective drugs they could use? Just giving a person hallucinations seems an unreliable prelude to a theft.

Perhaps it was the package, come to think of it. Dominic had no idea who was even sending the package to whom, let alone what was inside it. It wasn't his business, and he frankly didn't care. But he'd be changing his tune after this job if it turned out the package really was causing him to hallucinate. Obviously he didn't want to open the package, that'd just piss off the clients, and more importantly his boss once she caught wind of it. If she found out he'd broken contract because he was having hallucinations and had the hunch it was caused by the package, he'd be fired faster than he could say, "I wasn't high". And as much as he griped about this job, it was easier to keep than most of the other ones he tried. He needed to hold down a job for at least a while if he ever wanted to be taken seriously by an employer actually worthy of him.

So no opening the package then. What could be in there that caused hallucinations anyways? The boat was pretty crowded, but no one around him was suffering from hallucinations, as far as Dominic was aware. So if the package was responsible, it would have to have an extremely limited area of effect. And since the hallucinations only started on the ferry, and the previous people who held it seemed unaffected, whatever was causing this from the package must have been released recently. What could it be anyways? A drug or a gas? Some kind of radioactive material? While all of those were worrying, none seemed right. Radioactive material would be more carefully contained, and it didn't cause "mere" hallucinations. A gas or drug of some kind was more possible, but Dominic didn't smell... well he smelled a lot of things, and he frankly had no idea what such a gas would smell like, if it smelled like anything at all. He found it hard to believe whatever was in the package would be able to affect him, and only him, though. Surely if it could get to him, it could get to someone else?

Maybe it wasn't the package after all. Or maybe it was a magic artifact in the package that had accidently been activated and only affected the holder. Dominic chuckled at such an absurd thought, though it seemed more plausible than some of the other possibilities he went through. Though he had to question the utility of an artifact that gave its holder random hallucinations. Maybe there was something more to it than just hallucinations.

Or maybe, just maybe, the hallucinations he was suffering from weren't caused by some magical outside force, but because he was just really bored. Walking around the city was boring work, and sitting around on the ferry was even more boring. Maybe his brain decided to just phone in some of the sensory inputs so he got some funny feedback. Dominic had never heard of anything like that happening, but after he went through the other absurd possibilities he could conceive of, this made the most sense. That his brain might not be reliable when he was bored wasn't a great thought, but more comforting than being drugged, insane, or affected by some foreign artifact.

Still, not like he had anything better to do on the ferry ride, so he could probably spend the rest of the time going over possibilities, seeing if he missed anything. There had to be some sort of cause for his sudden hallucinations.

 

[Sneakyflaps]

He wasn’t exactly sure what was happening, but as he managed to turn a corner and away from prying eyes, he began pulling his hands away from each other, apply more and more force until it let go and he accidentally smacked his hand into the wall. It hurt, the force of it had surprised himself and out of reflex he held on to it, getting right back where he started and wondering what the hell was going on as he forced his hands free once more, going out to the bathroom and locking the door.

 

[Noco19]

Karham News
Mayoral Race, Old and New Collide​

To be decided on the 3rd of November, the mayoral race in Karham began expected enough, the incumbent Mayor John Belo defending his office from his primary opponent Clark Kellog. Karham, being a special snowflake and quite self-centered, still operated on the general dichotomy of Democrat versus Republican, however the inner workings of the city did well to mould them both into unique sub-cultures of their national fronts.

Belo, currently on his second term as mayor of Karham, was assuredly noted for his backing from the unions across the city, mostly centered within the Harbor. This, coupled with the backing of the wealthy liberals throughout the city, gave him a strong base, but what truly set him apart within his party was his connections with the local Portuguese-Catholic community. Outwardly pious, Belo and his consistent attendance to the Cathedral of Saint Felix was pushed hard in his original election bid years back, which impressed a firm image of him within religious bases.

Kellog on the other hand emerged from among the ranks of the Karham Police Department, a retired captain that campaigned on the basis of his experience in law enforcement. While having no significant allies like Belo, Kellog did gain the vital endorsements of almost all the major police officers within the city, a foundation to begin his under-dog journey. This was aborted shortly into the campaign season as anonymous leaks revealed a hefty amount of connections between Kellog and organized crime. Although denying it as fake attacks on his character and the leaks having little admissible evidence, the damage was done and the Kellog campaign burned to the ground.

With Kellog out, the political pundits prepared for a third and final term of Mayor Belo, but from the ashes came a new challenger, a firebrand from the New Quarter, in the form of Kara Kirshenwitz. Hailing from a Jewish-Polish family that fled Europe following the dark days of World War Two and the subsequent Communist regime, Kara Kirshenwitz grew up in a lower-class lifestyle in Little Warsaw, an ethnic enclave in the New Quarter. Her rise, tied to her artistic ability as a singer-songwriter turned actress turned political organizer, was self-made and served to propel her forward as a face for Karham, which made her entry into the mayoral election all the more fascinating.

Running as an independent, Kirshenwitz was met with skepticism, but following a series of fierce statements and a strong showing in rallies across Karham, it became clear that Belo was not as sure a winner as it initially seen. This was made all too clear when the two met in debate, wherein Kirsenwitz lambasted Belo on his numerous scandals, stories untouched by previous news-cycles, and his allowance of crime, pollution, and poverty to rise unchecked. In a single night, Belo became a laughing stock, earning Belo a portrayal in Saturday Night Live by Bobby Moynihan as a slobbish, stuttering fool. Still, the race has managed to remain competitive as Belo still holds the overwhelming backing of the true political machinery of Karham.

It was still unsure how Karham would chose, when the untested new would collide with the untrusty old.

 

[Noco19]

GM Note: Everyone please have ICs/abstentions in by Saturday. Thank you to everyone who has done so already.