Places to Chat
Mystery RP!I
Chatterbox: Inkwell
Mystery RP!I
Mystery RP!
I am starting a mystery RP! The caracters will live at a detective agency, and solve crimes. To join, just fill out the form below:
Character name:
Appearance:
Strength:
Weakness:
Weapon:
Story:
Here's my application:
Character name: Bess
Appearance: Blonde hair, blue eyes, slightly plump
Strength: She feels nothing in her hands, so she is a good puncher.
Weakness: She is often afraid.
Weapon: Her iron hand.
Story: So, she is Bess Marvin from the Nancy Drew mysteries, only she has an iron hand.
So what do you think? Good or bad idea?
submitted by Mag Fan, age detective, on the case
(March 8, 2014 - 9:46 am)
(March 8, 2014 - 9:46 am)
H.G. Wells ~
I stood out in the street, staring up at concrete building. It was far smaller than what I was used to, though that being said, I had little doubt there was more to this place than met the eye. The street itself was vacant, with strewn litter being blown around my feet. I wasn't particularly pleased about transfered, but I was determined to do my job well.
I strode smartly to the door, pushing it open. I immediately felt like I'd stepped back into a 1940's detective film. Windows with slatted blindes let in hazy sunshine. A desk stood in the back of the room, a door with fogged glass window led off toward a separate room.
Several people stood in the room. None looked alike or familiar. Nothing connected us, yet we'd all evidently been asked to be here. Hardly anyone looked at me as I entered, and no one said a word, as if waiting for something.
Just after I entered though, the door swung open again, and a blonde haired girl entered. She seemed mildly surprised to see us, but gathered her composure. One girl stepped forward, and started the introductions. I took mental note of each of their names.
"Hazel Gemma Wells," I said in a clipped voice, my British accent coming out strongly. "But you can call me H.G.Wells."
"Ok," the girl, Bess, said after we'd finsihed introductions. "We will train while we wait for our first crime to solve."
Everyone in the room nodded. I wasn't worried about "training". I'd been put through the ringer plenty of times while working with my previous agency. This would be a good refresher coarse.
*********************************************************************
Yes, I couldn't resist making Warehouse refernces, ok? So anyway, that didn't go anywhere, but there's H.G.'s introduction.
(March 14, 2014 - 6:53 pm)
In the wee hours of the afternoon the sidewalk was bustling with all sorts of inhabitants. A short girl muscled her way through the crowd, attracting more than a few strange glances. She threw glares over her shoulder, as if looking for something, but she continued to go through the crowd. She darted around the corner, into an alley and broke into a run.
"One forty-three, one forty-three, one forty-three..." she muttered, looking up at the brass house numbers on the other side of the street. She leaned against a brownstone, and finds a scroll in a leather bag she has lugged around. "One forty-three Edward Ave-"
She squealed as a hand came out of the wall, which was a trap door.
"Come in here, you're going to be late!" A voice hissed. "Lucy Voelker, right?"
"I guess..." The girl conceded, sure she had found the right place.
***
Sorry this is short, I have to leave!
(March 15, 2014 - 9:12 am)
--Aidan--
I opened the pawn shop door to let David in, and asked him if he had those earrings that he'd boasted to me about being able to get. I knew he'd be able to get them, and I was pretty certain that, like most of this shop's customers, he wasn't getting them legally. I didn't like that, but he (along with the pawn shop owner) was one of those people that it would be bad to get on the wrong side of, so I pretended to trust David, and he seemed to trust me. Of course, I didn't trust anyone anymore, except maybe old Taffadil who owned the antique store and was very kind.
David came in and showed me the earrings triumphantly. “You know I always get what I'm after. Now, what sort of a price do you think these should fetch?” “Give 'em here for a mo, from all I can see of them while they're in your hands, they could be plastic for all I can tell.” I told him, and when I had them in my hands, I looked at them, and decided to do a little acting. “Huh, I'd say these ones're glass, and not very good glass, neither. I won't give you more'n 50 dollars for 'em.” David pretended to be shocked. “50!? I'm not selling for less than 200, because those aren't glass, and even if they were, I'd say they're pretty good glass!” We bartered for a while, and once we'd reached a conclusive price I put the earrings in the shop window and David got the right amount of money out of the shop's cash register. I then stopped him and counted the money that he'd gotten because you never knew with people like him, but it was alright, and when I'd handed the bills back to him sheepishly, he grinned at me and said ,“You don't really think I'd be that petty, do you? You know, you're so careful and logical that if you ever decide that the laws are holding you back, you'd probably be world-class! Just so's you know.”
After he'd left and I'd finished my shift at the shop and was on my way back to the antique store, I thought about his words. It had almost felt as if they were a threat, but whether they were or not, I decided that I wouldn't give in to them. I then thought about my future, which was something I'd been hoping to be able to avoid for a while. Maybe when I was old enough I'd be able to attend some night school, and then I could try to apply for a bursary or something for university, but that looked pretty unlikely. My thoughts were interrupted when I suddenly noticed a bright red poster tacked up on a street-lamp pole.
I went over to it to see what it was, and read: Rare Organic Diamonds, Recently Made Into Earrings, Stolen! If Seen, Please Report To The Police Or The Detective Agency. At the bottom was a phone number and an address that I realized was quite close to there.
------
Thanks for the set up and the challenge, Everinne!
I'll explain what an organic diamond is later by having Aidan explain, I made it up, but I think it could exist, scientifically speaking. (You can probably tell that I had a science lesson recently!)
(March 15, 2014 - 11:21 pm)
Everybody filed in to the room quietly and began to recite our names upon command. All eyes eventually made it to me and staring at the floor with my hardest get-me-out-of-here-stare I was able to push out a small mumble, sensing that nobody heard I repeated a little louder, Amelia Jenners. My cheeks burned with embarassment and anxiety as the next person said their name, I wasn't even listening to anybody but somehow recall Bess Marvin saying "Ok", "We will train while we wait for our first crime to solve".
Crime, it hit me with brief panic that we were going to be working with crime as in criminals. It hit me that there would be violence and weapons. I wasn't sure what would happen in the world of crime and panicking I excused myself to the bathroom to think of a polite way to decline my invitation. Or would it be good for me to have this exposure?
(March 16, 2014 - 9:46 am)
Aspen~
I shivered in the cold. It wasn't the kind of non-stop shiver I got when I was turning invisible, but a shiver from the harsh wind blowing from outside and maybe me shivering as bit from fear. I took a deep breath and entered the cocrete building.
It loooked just how my adoptive mother, Alice, had described it, with the door and the fooged glass, the small desk in the corner, and the windows that had the same blinds as the orphanage I used to live in, except the blinds in the orpahange had always be closed.
The orphanage... Memories came back to me in a flash. Alyssa, the only woman that had been kind to me there, picking me up and saying, "It will be alright, Aspen" when I was three. I had asked her once how she knew or got my name, and she said that an aspen tree had been embroidered on my clothes. The headmisstress, smacking me across the face for me finding Little Dotty's plastic necklace and her thinking, as usual, I stole it. Alyssa sneaking me food. Me lying in my tiny bed with thin sheets in the winter, shiviring and all alone.
I had just enough time to think these thoughts before the fogged door opened and a girl with blond hair and blue eyes came out. She smiled, and a girl with dark hair and eyes stepped forward, wearing black. She introduced herself as Lucy Voelker.The blond replied that she was Bess Marvin. I took a quick glance around the circle, and saw a short girl with silky brown hair, a elf-like girl, and another girl with light brown hair. They introduced themselves as Fawn, Eve, and H.G. Wells.
'What is your name?" asked Bess. I shyly introdced myself, and how I got here. Bess looked quite sorry for me after hearing about my life at the orphanage. After a girl that was as shy as me said she was called Donna, or Dan, a girl who looked remarkably like a bird called Wren Lark, and a tall girl who called herself Amelia Jenners, Bess stepped back into the middle of the room. "Ok. We will train while we wait for our first crime to solve"
I bit my lip and shrank back a little. Was I good enough? Would I impress Bess and the others enough? Uh-oh. I should of known better than to think those thoughts. Now I felt myself turning invisible. The unstoppable non-stop shiviring ran through me as the I slowly dissapeared.
(March 17, 2014 - 6:26 am)
Sorry, I do not think I will be able to do this Mystery RP. I have gotten busy lately and I haven't found the time to sit down and draft out a paragraph for this. If you would like to use my character, Fawn, in your stories, you have my permission to do so!
(March 17, 2014 - 10:38 am)
Oh, I'm sorry that you've been so busy, Nina. Since you mentioned it, we can use Fawn in our stories for you. And remember: If you ever have some time to write even a short paragraph for this, feel free to do so!
(March 18, 2014 - 9:54 am)
David--
After a few days Donna disappeared from the pawn shop without a word, which was strange, because she never really went anywhere that David didn't know about. They kept tabs on each other in a friendly kind of way, mostly because David felt like a big brother to her and she knew only too well the reckless way he committed his crimes. He had seen the big signs on the windows and lamposts when he went through town (he was an expert at disguise), advertising the theft of the earings he had taken, but he didn't sweat it. He didn't sweat most things, and he knew that in time it would either blow over or he could get a decent paste replica.
But not seeing Aiden for so long was worrying, especially after his heist. He knew only too well what she could accomplish if she so chose, and he didn't like that look that had followed him after she had given him the 200 bucks. It was like she was trying to decide something. He didn't like thoughtful expressions. Whenever people started thinking, considering, it was a sign to get out of town or into a new identity. He wondered how many people he had been so far in the past year. Cody Sampson, student; Joe Kirby, office boy; Andrew Keller, worker of the espresso counter at the local cafe. And then, of course, David Welling: orphan, thief, one time innocent murderer. He always gave a little scoff when he thought about himself like that. What a virtuous application.
He was thinking about this, rather uncomfortably, as he strayed into Edward Avenue, a grubby looking street despite its fine name, full of houses most of which were boarded up or had For Lease signs on the fences. There was something rather odd about Number 143, however. It had a lived in look, not quite so apparent as tricycles on the front lawn or anything, but it didn't appear so terribly run down as some of the others. David slowed as he looked at it, and had a sudden disconcerting feeling that he was being watched. By someone in the front window of Number 143. He immediately hurried on, but as he went, he caught a face peering through the glass, just for a nanosecond, but it was a face he knew.
It was Donna Florence.
(March 18, 2014 - 3:28 pm)
--Aidan--
After I'd read the poster, I ran to the antique store and stayed in the attic for several days, wondering what to do and how to do it. One part of me said that everything would probably sort itself out if I went back to the pawn shop and ignored what I knew, and that I didn't even know it, just suspected it. Another part of me said that was ridiculous, I DID know, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I ignored it. But I'd be sure to lose my job, said the first part, and the second part answered that eleven-year-olds shouldn't even NEED a job, and so on.
Somehow, I found myself on the steps of the low brick building that was number 143, the address on the poster. I knocked, and looked around the empty street nervously. I was as good as dead if someone who knew me saw me there. The door opened, and an older girl with blonde hair and blue eyes looked out at me. “Hello?”
“Is this the detective agency?” I asked breathlessly. Almost before I heard her say yes, I had ducked under her arm and was inside. The front room made me think of a book I'd once read about some detective called Dirk Gently, only his office was run down and this one just looked sparse and efficient and (to my mind) distastefully decorated. The older girl went towards a frosted glass door on the left.
“You must be here for the detective training, right? You're a bit late, and I didn't think nine-year-olds would show up for the jo-” I interrupted her, scandalized. “I'm not NINE! I'm eleven. And, uh, actually, I'm here because of the poster. The one about those stolen imperfect diamonds.”
“You mean organic diamonds.” She corrected.
“They're the same thing! Diamonds are pure carbon, but for a substance to be labelled organic, it has to have carbon and hydrogen. For a diamond to be organic and still a diamond, it must have a few hydrogen atoms mixed in, but not enough to make it something else like coal. That would be an imperfect diamond.” I realized that I'd been lecturing and looked down at the floor. The girl stared hard at me, and then said, “Well, I guess you'd better come in, then. By the way, I'm Bess. What did you say your name was?”
“I didn't.” I answered. Bess seemed to be waiting for a better answer, but I wasn't sure yet whether I'd trust them with my real name, and I also didn't want to tell lies to a detective, so I ignored her look and followed her into the next room.
This one looked a bit nicer, there were squashy faux leather chairs and couches strewn around the room, as well as small glass coffee tables with piles of detective magazines on them. There were bookshelves on all the walls, and a small computer and desk were wedged in a corner. There was another door off to the right. Sitting on the couches were seven other girls, every one of them looked at least a year older than me. Bess introduced them as, "Fawn, Eve, Amelia Jenners, Wren Lark, Aspen Crevil, Lucy Voelker, and H.G. Wells." I nodded silently, but it did not escape me that Wren was very aptly named, Aspen looked slightly transparent, and we had someone named after a "Father of Science Fiction" in the room. I realized that everyone was staring at me expectantly, and I said, "I think I know where the diamonds are." Then everyone looked puzzled. "Oh. Uh, you can call me Dan." Just then I saw a movement outside through a gap in the blind covering the window beside me. I glanced out, and I saw David! My eyes must have widened, because H.G. asked, "What?" "Um, nothing, I just realized that you're named after the man who wrote The Time Machine and The Invisible Man.”
------
Sorry it ends a bit abruptly. I'm a bit stuck for what they should say next.
(March 20, 2014 - 9:35 am)
H.G. ~
We sat in the back room; Bess briefing us on what we'd be doing. Suddenly there was fast, loud rapping on the door. Bess, looking mildly surprised, hurried out. I took the time to better study my companions, gaging ages, strengths, weaknesses, and over all personalities. It's amazing what you can tell about a person simply by body language, clothing, and expressions.
Suddenly Bess re-entered the room, followed by small, red headed girl. I watched the girl's face as Bess introduced each of us in turn. Immediately, I could tell she was like me; she was studying us, taking mental note.
She introduced herself as Dan, though seemed somewhat distracted, her eyes drawn toward the window.
"What?" I asked.
"Um, nothing, I just realized that you're named after the man who wrote The Time Machine and The Invisible Man," she replied, quickly recovering herself.
I snorted slightly. "If you only knew," I muttered laughingly, shaking my head slightly. I always wondered how people would react if they found out I really was The "Father" of Science Fiction.
Dan stared at me a moment, as if trying to process my reaction. I stared evenly back at her.
"Ahem," Bess said, glancing back and forth between Dan and I, looking at us strangely. "Shall we return to the matters at hand? These organic, or imperfect, or whatever they are diamonds?"
Dan returned her attention to Bess. I settled back, watching the two. This was going to interesting.
*********************************************************************
So, that didn't go anywhere, but what exactly are we going to do next?
(March 20, 2014 - 5:56 pm)
Get on my trail, I suppose...but you won't catch me. :) At least, not for a while.
@ CaptainRead:
I like how you described Aspen as "transparent." I thought that was a rather interesting adjective for someone. And your explanation of an "organic" diamond was quite enlightening.
(March 20, 2014 - 7:31 pm)
top! Don't let this die!!!
(March 25, 2014 - 7:36 pm)
PLEASE WRITE HERE SOMEONE!
(March 26, 2014 - 8:30 am)
So sorry but I have to resign from being Amelia Jenners as theatre is coming to an end I am getting really busy. If somebody wants to take her over they can but otherwise just forget about her.
Sorry,
Katie
(March 26, 2014 - 5:05 pm)
Toppity! Anyone gonna write here?
(March 29, 2014 - 6:23 pm)