.:FⓍREST ⓍF SILENCE:. "It was tall, it appeared to be wearing a suit... But there's no way it was human."

I've heard the stories. All of them. To be honest, they scared the hell out of me. I can't even begin to recount how much I cowered away in the corner of my room night after night after night. But…I digress. There is more to be told here than just an image of a shuddering young man.

The town seemed to grow more desolate and dank ever since the first incident occurred a few miles from here. Some poor girl went missing from her quaint home. She was never heard from again. Now the colors of the world around me seemed to dull as if reflecting the horrible atmosphere that has washed over the people of this town. Adding to the effect, it rained even more often. The rain would bring with it an eerie fog that would slink between everything like an ominous snake. I can't say that the whole setting didn't send a chill down my spine every time I stepped foot outside of my house.

As if the fog weren't enough, the woods around the town were just plain creepy. I swore I could hear noises…noises unlike any woodland creature. They sounded almost human…but not quite. My apologies, I'm not so good at remembering what they sounded like. Anyway, the trees themselves moved in quite an odd fashion….as if they were alive. I mean, I know trees are living things, of course they are alive. But these trees moved as if they had some sort of…soul. Or, to be more specific…a purpose. My heart skipped a bit whenever a branch creaked. I was definitely not in my best state of mind.

Then came the day when it happened. I was strolling through the town casually. Not another soul was nearby, save for some crying voice in the distance. I paid no heed to it; so many people cried nowadays. Of course, a light rain was falling, and with it the fog rolled in. I heard nothing except the light patter of the rain and sloshing of my shoes through some scattered puddles.

That is…until another voice called out. This one seemed distant, yet at the same time I knew it was talking to me. Well of course; it was calling my name. "Michael…" the voice called. Over and over again. My eyes darted all around me, trying to find the creeper calling out to me. But I saw NOBODY. Not a single soul in sight. Yet that voice, that eerie voice kept calling…calling. I ran. Ran straight into the d@mn woods. I had no choice. Staying out in the open was the last thing I wanted to do.

I could have sworn I saw something pass about 50 yards in front of me. The creature was sickly thin yet unnervingly tall. I saw the spindly arms pass by behind it for a second or two before the entire thing was out of sight. The surprise caused me to lose my balance and trip over some tree root. I fell to the rain-soaked ground and lay there in the rain for a short while.

After I got up, things seemed so different. The trees…were they in those positions before? Or was I just imagining things? I had no idea, but I could feel that thing nearby. That uneasy fear returned to my heart once again. But there was nowhere to run. All I could see around me were trees and fog.

Finally, IT came into my view. It was incredibly scary, yet it moved with a sort of inhuman grace. As if it simply slid across the wet ground at will. The thing edged closer and closer to me until it was within 30 yards. it was so close I swear I could have heard it breathe…if it did breathe at all. Not that I would know; it's entire face was void of any features whatsoever. A pale, ghostly moon shining through the darkness, piercing my very soul.

It's arms…how many d@mn arms did it have? I didn't feel like counting them, seeing as one of those black snaky tendrils was suddenly rushing towards me. I backed away swiftly, trying to keep my distance between myself and that horrible appendage. But no…it was too fast. Too fast. Way too fast. I back into a tree, and there was nowhere left to go. Speaking of which, that tree felt strange. Like some sort of circular shape was carved into it from long ago. Or was it an X shape? Who cares…that thing shot towards me lightning fast. Within a split second, it would reach my face…

Welcome, one and all to your deepest, darkest nightmare. In this role-play, you will play as a human. Every step you take is taking a chance. Every moment you rest is a chance for it to find you. You are in a group, a team if you will, staying together to find out why... this THING, is stalking you. You and your team will travel across America, with the Operator, Der Ritter, or Slenderman following you every step of the way. Whether it be a corn maze, or a mall, he will be there, and he will be watching.

Here's one word of advice, for you, and only you....

Dont turn around....

.:FⓍREST ⓍF SILENCE:. "It was tall, it appeared to be wearing a suit... But there's no way it was human." Rules-1

.:FⓍREST ⓍF SILENCE:. "It was tall, it appeared to be wearing a suit... But there's no way it was human." Rules-1

Rules wise, I'm not very strict. Keep within the Rules and Guidelines of the forum and we really shouldn't have a problem. Here are the rules I have personally set forth, however:

* Keep everything PG-13.

*No God-Modding (this means taking control/killing off other people's characters)

*No power-playing, autoing, etc, etc.

*Keep your smut to the PM's or yourself. I'm not saying you can't date or have a relationship with another character, but anything to steamy will result in a ban.

*Please use good grammar to the best of your abilities. Typos are understandable, chat speak is not.

*PM me any questions you may have, I don't bite. I dont have a face anyway.

* There is no limit to how short or long a post can be, I just kindly ask that you give others something to work with within your posts[Three sentences is the standard]. Thank you!

.:FⓍREST ⓍF SILENCE:. "It was tall, it appeared to be wearing a suit... But there's no way it was human." Profilethingy-1

.:FⓍREST ⓍF SILENCE:. "It was tall, it appeared to be wearing a suit... But there's no way it was human." Profilethingy-1

Your profile should be set up as such:

Username: [Username goes here]
Character Name: [Character Name]
Character Age: [Age]
Location: Try to set your character close by another. The first four members will be the first team, so please try to have the first four be near each other in say.... Florida.
Character Biography: [A little history/interests pertaining to your character, when he first saw the Slenderman, etc.]
Appearance: [Either a description or picture of how your character looks should go here. Pictures should be linked to, if you don't know how to do that, I will do it for you, no worries]

Last edited by TheOperator on Mon Oct 22, 2012 1:35 am; edited 2 times in total

.:FⓍREST ⓍF SILENCE:. "It was tall, it appeared to be wearing a suit... But there's no way it was human." Profiles-1

Username: Maxxtoron
Character Name: jeff Armstrong
Character Age: 26
Location: Florida, I guess.
Character Biography: Jeff was a soldier. he had wanted to be a soldier all his life, and when he finally got there, he had too much fun killing the enemy. But, he developed what many believed to be PTSD, and was send to a mental hospital to recover. That was where he saw Slenderman.

He was sitting on his bed one night, trying to sleep. The TV remote was in his hand, and he was quickly flicking through the channels, when his door opened, which was odd because he locked it.
"Who's there?" he called out. No response. He got up, looked around, and closed the door, guessing that it was some prankster. He was wrong. About an hour later, he heard a noise. Standing in the corner of his room, the moonlight reflecting off of it, was a man in a suit.

"Huh? who are you?" Jeff asked. No response. That's when he saw it's FACE; there wasn't one. He screamed, and the man in the suit just stood there, staring at him. Jeff's screams brought a nurse to his room, who turned the lights on. But, by the time that she turned on the lights, the Slenderman had vanished into the shadows.

Appearance: Jeff is about five foot ten and 140 pounds. he is extremely thin and haggard-looking. His hair is a greyish brown and is extremely unkempt, as is his beard. He wears a mottled green army jacket and ripped jeans with combat boots.

___________________________________

Username: MataRahi
Character Name: Abhaya Rose
Character Age: 11
Location: A forgotten Florida small-town - the type of place people visit only when lost.
Character Biography: Little Abhaya's parents were immigrants from some unknown corner of the earth – they had always refused to clarify. Her mother is wholly caucasian, but her father displays distinct characteristics of southeastern Asia. They raised Abhaya in the household of those that had seen and experienced far, far too much to be deluded with naive notions of bright futures for one’s children; Abhaya was forever a quiet girl, amused not by toys but by the unseen things that crept in the impermeable darkness of the nursery at night. She has always pursued a career in writing, particularly after the queer and as-yet-unexplained Halloween disappearance of her mother distanced her father even more so than before. Abhaya had, ever since, searched for the fundamental answers that dictate the course of worldly events – right and wrong – luck and fate – in an effort to regain what she feels that she has been denied, what she sees every day in the faces of everyone he meets.

This research eventually brought Abhaya to a nearby dense wood one quiet Sunday night, where, in the course of conducting studies on the behavior of certain insects in graveyard soil as opposed to the sort unsaturated by death and decay, Abhaya caught a glimpse of a most queer creature - a limping man of about sixty years who, upon seeing her, cried out and fled into the forest. Forgetting her experimentation, she followed the sickly man through the labyrinthine network of trees, which had begun to fog over - as if the trees themselves were ushering in the thick swaths of gray that obfuscated Abhaya's vision quickly and severely. Undeterred, Abhaya traced the man's path to a broken-down cabin, arriving in the clearing it inhabited only in time to see the front door slam and the lights extinguish, to be replaced only by silence. It struck her that perhaps the man had confused her for someone else - a notion that was, unfortunately, accurate. Ever since that night, Abhaya consistently hears the light footsteps and dreadful slithering of some queer creature outside her window, and when she is alone outside the city, she may catch fleeting glimpses of a stick-like, faceless figure that chills her to the bone and paralyzes her mind with increasing intensity. She cannot bear the thought that, if her sense are not deceiving her, in each contiguous incident the thing seems to come a little... bit... closer.

Appearance: Abhaya could easily be mistaken for a male on account of her slight stature, lean build, commonly slumped posture, and short black hair. Her skin – whilst not particularly pale – has a perpetual sickishness about it that suggests a disease of some sort. There is, however, nothing diseased about Abhaya, at least not perceptively, for her mind functions in ways that – whilst not included in the vast ranges of mental deficiency – border on eldritch schools of thought and otherworldly interpretations of reality that seem utterly alien to those previously unexposed to Abhaya. She stands at an unremarkable height of four-foot-three, and weighs just over seventy pounds. Abhaya’s black hair hangs from wild cultivations on the summit of her head to the top of her neck, where it dangles like clusters of blight-ridden vines in some morbid jungle. Her wide eyes, a neutral gray, dart back and forth lazily, as if Abhaya wishes to experience all that the world offers but is in no hurry to do so. She clothes herself in swaths of night and day – jeans, jacket, shoes, and gloves of black, complementing a t-shirt, belt, socks, and of white. A silver necklace engraved with a grotesquely-formed heart graces her neck, and black bands are wrapped about her arms, sinewy from weakness.

___________________________________

Reserve.

Reserve.

Reserve, just in case. You may now post.

Username: Maxxtoron
Character Name: jeff Armstrong
Character Age: 26
Location: Florida, I guess.
Character Biography: Jeff was a soldier. he had wanted to be a soldier all his life, and when he finally got there, he had too much fun killing the enemy. But, he developed what many believed to be PTSD, and was send to a mental hospital to recover. That was where he saw Slenderman.

He was sitting on his bed one night, trying to sleep. The TV remote was in his hand, and he was quickly flicking through the channels, when his door opened, which was odd because he locked it.
"Who's there?" he called out. No response. He got up, looked around, and closed the door, guessing that it was some prankster. He was wrong. About an hour later, he heard a noise. Standing in the corner of his room, the moonlight reflecting off of it, was a man in a suit.

"Huh? who are you?" Jeff asked. No response. That's when he saw it's FACE; there wasn't one. He screamed, and the man in the suit just stood there, staring at him. Jeff's screams brought a nurse to his room, who turned the lights on. But, by the time that she turned on the lights, the Slenderman had vanished into the shadows.

Appearance: Jeff is about five foot ten and 140 pounds. he is extremely thin and haggard-looking. His hair is a greyish brown and is extremely unkempt, as is his beard. He wears a mottled green army jacket and ripped jeans with combat boots.

Lemme know if I should change anything. :3

Username: MataRahi
Character Name: Abhaya Rose
Character Age: 11
Location: A forgotten Florida small-town - the type of place people visit only when lost.
Character Biography: Little Abhaya's parents were immigrants from some unknown corner of the earth – they had always refused to clarify. Her mother is wholly caucasian, but her father displays distinct characteristics of southeastern Asia. They raised Abhaya in the household of those that had seen and experienced far, far too much to be deluded with naive notions of bright futures for one’s children; Abhaya was forever a quiet girl, amused not by toys but by the unseen things that crept in the impermeable darkness of the nursery at night. She has always pursued a career in writing, particularly after the queer and as-yet-unexplained Halloween disappearance of her mother distanced her father even more so than before. Abhaya had, ever since, searched for the fundamental answers that dictate the course of worldly events – right and wrong – luck and fate – in an effort to regain what she feels that she has been denied, what she sees every day in the faces of everyone he meets.

This research eventually brought Abhaya to a nearby dense wood one quiet Sunday night, where, in the course of conducting studies on the behavior of certain insects in graveyard soil as opposed to the sort unsaturated by death and decay, Abhaya caught a glimpse of a most queer creature - a limping man of about sixty years who, upon seeing her, cried out and fled into the forest. Forgetting her experimentation, she followed the sickly man through the labyrinthine network of trees, which had begun to fog over - as if the trees themselves were ushering in the thick swaths of gray that obfuscated Abhaya's vision quickly and severely. Undeterred, Abhaya traced the man's path to a broken-down cabin, arriving in the clearing it inhabited only in time to see the front door slam and the lights extinguish, to be replaced only by silence. It struck her that perhaps the man had confused her for someone else - a notion that was, unfortunately, accurate. Ever since that night, Abhaya consistently hears the light footsteps and dreadful slithering of some queer creature outside her window, and when she is alone outside the city, she may catch fleeting glimpses of a stick-like, faceless figure that chills her to the bone and paralyzes her mind with increasing intensity. She cannot bear the thought that, if her sense are not deceiving her, in each contiguous incident the thing seems to come a little... bit... closer.

Appearance: Abhaya could easily be mistaken for a male on account of her slight stature, lean build, commonly slumped posture, and short black hair. Her skin – whilst not particularly pale – has a perpetual sickishness about it that suggests a disease of some sort. There is, however, nothing diseased about Abhaya, at least not perceptively, for her mind functions in ways that – whilst not included in the vast ranges of mental deficiency – border on eldritch schools of thought and otherworldly interpretations of reality that seem utterly alien to those previously unexposed to Abhaya. She stands at an unremarkable height of four-foot-three, and weighs just over seventy pounds. Abhaya’s black hair hangs from wild cultivations on the summit of her head to the top of her neck, where it dangles like clusters of blight-ridden vines in some morbid jungle. Her wide eyes, a neutral gray, dart back and forth lazily, as if Abhaya wishes to experience all that the world offers but is in no hurry to do so. She clothes herself in swaths of night and day – jeans, jacket, shoes, and gloves of black, complementing a t-shirt, belt, socks, and of white. A silver necklace engraved with a grotesquely-formed heart graces her neck, and black bands are wrapped about her arms, sinewy from weakness.

Guest

I get the overwhelming urge to post "11 Drunk Guys Play Slender"

Spoiler:

Spoiler:

There, enjoy. Smile

Also, I will review the proposed characters in a few minutes.

Spoiler:

Giver Posts : 297 Join date : 2012-10-20

I decided to make a sheet:

Username: ThePrussianCompy

Character Name: Andrew "Cryne" Kaystow

Character Age: 23

Location: Andrew lives alone in his house on the outskirts of a small northern Floridan town.

Character Biography: Andrew was born living in the same house he does today. When he was seven, his father left his house on a rainy day to go to work and never came back. Later that night Andrew and his mother learned from city officials that his father had died when his bus slipped on a wet concrete bridge and fell off. he has fairly popular at school; easily building a reputation for himself after his father's death. In tenth grade, in a Latin class he was taking, Andrew earned the nickname 'Cryne' for his cold and quiet nature. Soon everybody was calling him 'Cryne,' and Andrew didn't mind. He liked the name, not caring about the original reason for recieving it. When Cryne was 18 he realized that his mother was acting oddly: She started getting nervous and suffered seemingly random coughing fits. Whenever asked what was wrong, she would leave the room. One night Cryne went to a friend's house because he was invited to a party, He returned at three o'clock to find his mother missing with no trace. Afraid that a kidnapping had taken place, he called 911. No trace of her was found, and Cryne was left to fend for himself. Every once in a while his aunt would come to help him out, but after she left, he realized that he was living alone. Around 20 his friends left the city, after having similar coughing fits every once in a while. Cryne was on his own.
On his 22nd birthday, Cryne left his home for a late-night stroll, for once ignoring how insecure he was feeling. It was wintertime, and the trees were branchless. He stopped, wiped the show off of a park bench, and sat down for a quick rest. He studied the trees on the other side of the park, until he realized what he thought was snow had moved. Snow? In Florida? A slim, black long branch emerged from the trees, and it seemed to slither in the air. Cryne held his breath. The branch stopped moving, allowing Cryne to see the single lump of snow clearly now. It wasn't a lump, it was more like a ball. Cryne's gut told him that it wasn't snow. He ran, for the first time in a long time feeling pure terror. That wasn't snow: it was a head without a face. He wasn't chased. He decided not to call 911 this time. A faceless man, they would not believe. He was stuck with it.

Appearance: Cryne has black hair and hazel eyes. He is a tall person, standing almost six and a half feet tall, 6' 4". He tends to bring a brown jacket outside with him on cold days. He has a mild tan on his skin and short, rough hair. Despite his tan, you can also find a sort of ghostly paleness that has just barely started to show, caused by Cryne's unwillingness to leave his house since his mother's death. He rarely talks as if always thinking about something, living up to his nickname. When he does talk it's usually in an awkward tone. He is angered easily, yet cares for those close to him; he does not want to lose more friends. He usually wears a pair of slightly worn sneakers out on warm days, and wears new, warm waterproof boots on cold days. He wears a pair of jeans seemingly no matter what, and hates long-sleeved shirts.