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(I edited this game while there were no replies because I thought I could set this out better)
How this works
1: Look at the scenario the above user has set out for their OC and think about how your OC would help them.
2: Once you have helped the above OC you need to create a scenario for your own OC for the next person to figure out how to help out.
For example if my scenario were this:
Pierce is thrown into a car crushing machine. The walls are slowly closing in on him and he is unable to get out.
Person 2 might write:
Mr Fredrick Von Madeupcharacter takes out the person operating the car crushing machine and quickly switches it off before Pierce can be crushed.
He then goes over to assist Pierce out of the machine.
And then write their own scenario like:
Fredrick Von Madeupcharacter crosses over a train track on their way home and gets his foot stuck in the track. He suddenly realises the train is coming and it's only a matter of time before they are mowed down by the oncoming train.
So the next person has to then answer their scenario with their own solution.
RULES:
- Be respectful towards other users.
- Please wait at least 3 turns before you go again, and please rotate your characters to keep it interesting.
- Please put some effort in and write at least 3 lines.
> New rule < - If someone claims but doesn't complete within 12 hours then you're welcome to skip them and reply to the person above them.
I'll give the first scenario and then after that you need to follow the chain and look a the user above.
My scenario
Pierce is out cold tied up inside a car which has been pushed into the water.
The car is slowly sinking and filling up with water and it won't be long until the cyborg is completely submerged and drowns.
Saving someone that didn't need saving wasn't exactly fun. However, Charlotte didn't know this, nor was she here for fun.
In the dead of night she poked her rifle through an old window of an even older building, one that knew no occupants besides the homeless and squatters. Her own clothes resembled theirs to avoid suspicions. Across the street and through a window she could see through her scope a volunteer area where her target handed out supplies to people that came up for them. That lady seemed quite nice and hospitable with barely any marks to her name except the occasional gossip. Maybe it was one of those gossipers that had finally had it and requested the hit. It wasn't her place to figure it out, she was just the one between the two that was able to pull the trigger.
Before she could fire, however, something caught her attention. A brief glance upwards showed a figure she was barely able to catch-- someone in a poncho and something obscuring their face. There was a sniper, too, though well hidden; this was undoubtedly an assassin seasoned in this field. Someone was behind them, though, someone the assassin didn't seem to notice and wasn't working with. That person was holding what looked to be a weapon.
Typically, Charlotte wouldn't have bothered with a situation like this. It wasn't uncommon for assassins to try to take one another out during moments like these. However, something told her to help. Maybe it was that small bit of humanity still inside her, or maybe she was worried this could somehow screw up her mission. Whatever the case, she changed the aim of her rifle and fired at the attacker. By the time the attacker would be down, she'd have relocated to a different position.
I was careless...
Charlotte showed no emotion as several people surrounded her, each one with a variety of weapons. She'd came for a hit, and though things seemed fine, it turned out that person was a hostage that was forced to send a request-- someone who would have a clear background the Nightingale virus would clear. She should have researched more, a simple extra steps would have prevented all this. She could hear her father scolding her now.
The question was, was it possible to get out of this situation? She could take a few out and escape, though she wasn't confident in the success rate...
Why were there so many people, picking on one woman? How was that fair? A lot of guns were raised, and without thinking, Ciri threw one of her shoes right into the head of one of the people surrounding Charlotte. This earned Ciri a bunch of guns, also pointing at her, but she didn't care about all that right now. The woman was already pulling off her other shoe to chuck at the HEAVILY armed group of people—because that was obviously the smartest thing to do.
Luckily for Ciri, she would not face the consequences of her own actions as, with a distraction provided, Charlotte made quick work of the group to Ciri's awe. "Oh—wow, okay, you totally had that." Maybe she didn't really need to intervene, but hey, you never know.
Now that she thinks about it, maybe those people had a good reason to be surrounding Charlotte... huh.
NP: Feel free to use the prompt below, or write your own! I will not be offended.
Out of all the days to run into trouble, the night of a full moon was the worst of them. She had sealed Morgan away and was on her way to her own place to rest when she was ambushed by bandits. The last thing she needed was accidentally releasing a werewolf with them so close to where she had bound her companion.
That led her to where she was now, running through a field in the dead of night, being closely followed by a group just behind her. She didn't want to get too far from them yet, worried they'll turn around and head towards Morgan if she flees by horse. Her legs were screaming, lungs threatening to burst as she forced herself to keep running. Athletic she was not. She could see the forest is so close, just a little bit more.
As she breaks through the trees, she sees it's a steep way down too late, her foot slipping on the dirt below, sending her tumbling down, getting cuts from bushes and gravel alike.
Illanya was used to seeing thieves, stopping them too. Part of the job description honestly, though it was often like… bringing an axe to open a letter, sending a knight after a petty thief. If Illanya had her way, she’d leave dealing with pickpockets to the guards and nothing more.
It’s why when she spots the fellow with cat ears, sprinting away from angry shouting, a bag in hand, she nearly turns around and heads the other way. She was just another 15 minutes away from finishing patrol and the last thing she wanted to deal with was catching a thief. Of course, she didn’t really want to deal with anyone else spotting her leaving while there was a criminal on the loose and there were… unfortunately a lot of people around this time of day.
With a grumbling sigh and a stretch, Illanya strides with purpose to intercept Felix, not moving quick enough to look quite out of the ordinary for the bustling crowds quite yet. At least she does until she sees the source of the angry shouting. A crossbow bolt zips through the air and lodges into Felix’s shoulder, knocking him over a cart. As the scent of blood hits the air of the busy square, the once civil streets become panicked mayhem.
Without even thinking, she’s pulled her shield from her back and her hand reaching for the axe at her belt as she pushes through the current of fearful people towards where she saw Felix fall.
It takes some shoving and shouting orders to get clear, for Illanya to make to the cat-person’s side, shield raised as she glares sharply at the posse of mercenaries pushing towards her. Another bolt hits her shield and Illanya’s expression hardens. More brigand than mercenary in her opinion, guild emblem or not. She looks down to Felix.
“Are you alright? Not sure what the hell you did to piss these folks off. Look, I can’t reach down to stop the bleeding but can you put pressure on that for me?” Illanya attempts a smile, though it’s weakened to a grimace as wood splinters against her shield. Her eyes flick to where the group is approaching and that warmth, though harried, remains as she gives Felix an encouraging look. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of these guys. Just stay down, okay?”
Confidence returns to her gaze as she lowers her shield and regards the approaching mercenaries coolly, a hand unhooking the helm hanging from her belt and tugging it free.
“Gentlemen, I typically have no quarrel with the Mercenary Guilds… however you know better than to open fire on a populated city street.” She calls loudly to the approaching men, who have stopped to listen a good 20 feet away. The helm is placed on her head with the visor still up.
“Unfortunately, too little too late. I don’t much care why, you’re chasing this individual. Your little chase and use of lethal force is illegal unless otherwise cleared by the guild, which there’s been no requests for that at all lately.” She explains, drawing the axe from her belt and looking up to the group who seemed more focused on the wounded form of Felix than the knight standing in front of him.
She steps to the side, blocking their view. With a sigh she puts a hand on the visor and flicks it down over her face.
“Now, we do this the easy way, and you come quietly and I leave you in the hands of your guild… or I arrest you for everything illegal anbout this and this gets very ugly.”
@ NP: Illanya is a knight so! She could get in trouble with criminals and stuff! She also lives in a somewhat unstable country that hates her a bit already for what she is, so you can do something with that (though I would appreciate if you read her profile btw, very helpful info there!) anything really! Have fun with it! (Feel free to utilize her with her wings, she’d be in really trouble then!) I’m a bit tired but if I have time later there will be a prompt if this gets left unclaimed for a while.
The battle for Illanya had worn on for some time already by the time Ren begins to saunter into view. Though there didn’t seem to be any men dead at her feet, her axe stained in blood seems to suggest that she had at least made headway at some point. After all, now the game was to distract. So long as she bought enough time for the bystanders and innocents to escape that is.
Not that it made any difference now. Illanya’s arms feel like lead as she swings and parries blow after blow. Each strike she prevents with her shield or axe rattles down to her bones, weakening her stance as backing her into a corner as the rebels encircle her.
All she had left was muscle memory that was barely quick enough. It sometimes wasn’t, if the blood streaming down from a gash in her forehead is of any inclination.
Illanya doesn’t take notice of Ren clearing the comrades of the rebels surrounding her, her attention stolen as the back end a spear swings a wide catches her in the side, striking where her armor was weak. The knight gasps as her stance breaks and her knee buckles underneath her as she staggers.
Another blow to the head and everything is spinning, the light from her own body almost enough to make the throbbing pain worse. Blow after blow, some glance against her armor and other blows land. Each sending sparks of pain ip and down her body. Idly, as she props herself up on a knee to keep from falling to the ground, Illanya begins to realize that the likelihood of her living through this wanes the longer the assault goes on.
She almost completely slumps to the ground as the rebels attention is diverted, a kick to her armored ribcage the last blow she takes before they focus on the well dressed entity. Illanya vaguely recognizes Ren’s voice from the distance, but the pounding in her ears makes it hard to make out his words.
It’s hard to tell whether Illanya is shocked by the massacre that Ren brings or if she is actually going into shock. Despite that, she gasps as she’s hauled to her feet, snapping back into the moment and letting her shield clatter to the ground as she winces in pain.
Her knees nearly buckle again, though relief seems to be the main cause as she hears about her father.
“Oh thank the gods you were there. I saw so many of them go that direction and I…” Illanya trails off but the look on her face says it all, she’d been preparing to walk into a tragedy if she made it home.
Illanya seems to pause, looking around at the blood and gore mixing with dirt below her feet and she shakes her head, “I don’t doubt you can but we cant stay out in the open. I need time to mend the worst of this.” She gestures to her many bleeding wounds and attempts to stagger towards an abandoned shop turned rubble. At least it would have cover.
Ren’s mischievous draws a weak smile out of Illanya and a quiet chuckle.
“Well, if we live through this? Remind me, okay?”
Solita had not expected to see a familiar face upon following the sounds of vulgar insults being thrown around. Her curiosity had simply been piqued, her instinctual itch for violence urging her to creep up to the scene, but before her eyes was not all she had expected. Her sight had fallen upon Ren first, staring at those celeste eyes that gleamed even from afar. After the surprise had passed, her attention had next turned to the man who brandished a knife.
From the shadows afar, Solita couldn't particularly gauge what had led up to this moment. Had Ren simply crossed someone who happened to be in a particularly bad mood? Was the man just looking to intimidate Ren? No matter what had led the man to take out a knife, Solita could tell the situation was going to turn violent. Situations such as this never particularly ended peacefully, at least not in Solita’s experience. There was always blood to be shed.
No matter the situation, however, Solita knew it was not her business. There was no need to get involved; Solita knew that Ren was entirely capable of handling the situation on his own. Had she been better at ignoring her instincts, perhaps she would have turned the other way. Yet she found herself pulled from the shadows, the only indication of her oncoming presence being the clicking of her heels against the pavement. As she approached, her dark eyes trailed up and down the angry man, analyzing him in silence as she walked.
“Could you insult and threaten him a bit quieter, perhaps?” Solita’s words were sharp yet calm, even as the man whirled around to face her. His features grew notably angrier, and Solita felt he would spring towards her at any given moment. Still, she continued towards him until she stood a small distance away from him. Calm and poised, hands rested harmlessly by her side. “I know not a soul who wants to listen to all of that at a time like this.”
Her words seemed to aggravate the armed man greatly. She watched as his body tensed and his feet shifted forwards a bit, his mouth opening a crack as though to spit out another string of insults. Raising her hand, Solita was swift to cut his shouting off.
“All of that shouting will get you nowhere.” The corners of her mouth twitched up just slightly, as though about to crack into a smile. Still, her face remained neutral as she analyzed his reactions. “You would make more progress if you just walked away. Things will get ugly if this persists.”
The man lunged towards her now, slashing his knife towards Solita’s throat. Just barely did she manage to twist out of the way of the silver blade, watching it glint in the light as she moved away swiftly as a fox. A new look in her eyes began to glimmer; so rarely did she get to play like this without it being an order. So rarely did she get to experience being a demon on her own terms.
The shouting man had not seemed to expect her to escape his knife, pausing in place for just a moment to regather his senses. He was quick to do so, straightening up and moving to turn her way again. Yet Solita was quicker, moving towards him to bring her foot up to his midsection. Her kick landed right where she knew it would hurt him the most, and as he was distracted with that pain she swiftly drew her hidden blade.
It was an easy kill. The man was slow, his reactions delayed, his skill at fighting clearly not up to par. When she sank her knife into the back of his neck right below his skull, she felt a deep satisfaction settle within her. As he fell to the ground, she wrenched the blade from his neck and turned to face Ren. Her expression softened just slightly - still devoid of emotions, but softer than its usual hardness.
"Does trouble like this tend to find you often?" Solita inquired, although she wasn't particularly looking for an answer. "I've got a feeling it might. You have this certain energy around you that is sure to draw in plenty of unwanted attention." The intent behind Solita's words weren't quite clear, yet there was a sparkle in her eyes that gave away the lighthearted nature of her words. "At least this one will be of no trouble for you any longer... or for anyone, really."
NP: Solita is a demoness sooo honestly? there is a huge range of possibilities with her. she has killed many purely for the fact that she was told to do so - maybe someone is attempting to come after her for revenge. or maybe she's got a stalker, or she ran into the wrong person at the wrong time. anything goes really, have fun!!
The tiefling was more than used to trouble following her around, that and she was usually the trouble— yet in this case, it was different. They weren't the one wielding daggers, shortswords, or any weaponry nor were they casting offensive spells to onlookers for a kick out of it. As she watched the demoness pass by, a hooded man quickly followed her, dagger in hand.
Tav chuckled to herself, if you were going to assassinate someone, do it quickly and efficiently— not in an open area with your dagger visible and at the ready. She followed about five feet distance as she watched the man coat his blade with poison, a deadly one too by the looks of it, not one that was intended to knock one into a subconscious state but one to take a life. Ugh, all this shadow and strike nonsense, she thought to herself, why would anyone waste their time fiddling with daggers and blades when magic was always the more viable option?
Luckily for the demoness, even though Tav knew she could defend herself being a possibility, Tav loved to get involved in other people's business, and most of all loved to cause a scene. As the hooded man yelped and went to strike from behind Solita, Tav quickly cast a spell that held him in place. The battle yell from the hooded man was embarrassingly loud, but what was more embarrassing was his now frozen-like stature, held in place like a creature frozen in ice. They looked at the demoness with intrigue in their eyes, circling toward them as she still remained concentrated on the spell that held the failure of a man in place.
"You are most welcome, by the way," Tavaari smiled, her purple-ringed eyes fixated on Solita. She raised an eyebrow at the woman's deadpan gaze, no smile in sight. "I suppose I don't expect a grin or thanks from someone who is clearly still recovering from an evident attempt on their life, I do understand."
They then eyed the laces of her outfit with intrigue, quickly distracted by what just happened, she was always a lover of the more refined, especially outfits that had style. "I hope you would accept my inquiry as to know where that lovely dress of yours is from? The lace on your sleeves is intricate... perhaps we could have a nice cup of tea, or if that's not your drink, wine and recoup from what just happened? I would be out of sorts too."
NP: Tav is a morally grey person with a dark background, lots of people would be out for revenge on her, or she pissed someone off as she usually has a tendency to do with her attitude! Hope this serves as inspiration, have fun!