Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Fniff]

Rosedale. Rosedale. I had a girlfriend in school named Rose. Does that count?

Girlfriend named Rose in high school.

[BFEL]

"Hmm, Rosedale... That must be my name. Doesn't seem to be anything else it can be, or any other reason to know it..."
Name self Rosedale

Have fun with that 

Oh dear.

Oh dear.

Rosedale, eh. Rosedale. Never heard of it. Probably doesn't matter, you know? Best not to worry about these things - the pain of being alive or something was enough to deal with.

Don't care about that word.

Then maybe you should look around a bit?

Rosedale. Rosedale. I had a girlfriend in school named Rose. Does that count?

Girlfriend named Rose in high school.

You try to remember your high school experiences...but you cannot.
In fact you can't remember ANYTHING about your past, nothing whatsoever.
This goes for the rest of you nimrods too killin my atmosphere....grr....

[Samarkand]

Look around while calling myself Rosendale.

[sjm9876]

Examine surroundings. Fix anyone looking too closely with a stare, where they can't tell if I'm looking due to the mask.

[Fniff]

Now come on, I can totally remember my high school experience. It was mostly dealing weed. Anyway, where the hell am I anyway?

[Harry Baldman]

Yeah, sure. Why not. Look around and all that. One would guess that I would kinda see something by default, you know, but hey. Can't expect the world, can you?

[BFEL]

Yeah, sure. Why not. Look around and all that. One would guess that I would kinda see something by default, you know, but hey. Can't expect the world, can you?

((You just woke up, so by default you would see the ceiling ))
As you shift your vision away from the ceiling, you take in the details of the room you are in. Along the wall to your right is a window, though the pane is dirty enough that nearly no light shines through, hanging next to that is a poster of a half naked woman attached to a calendar. It is apparently September 23rd, and there is a red circle around the 28th.
To your left is a door, apparently the only one in the room, it is polished wood with a rusted metal frame, implying that the door was replaced recently.
It is currently closed, preventing you from seeing outside of the room.
The bed, if it can be called such, is little more then a mattress strewn on the floor and a pillow propped where your head just was. The mattress is largely stained, with what looks like oil or grease.

Now come on, I can totally remember my high school experience. It was mostly dealing weed. Anyway, where the hell am I anyway?

While the details are completely unknown to you, you get a feeling that much of your past involved trafficking in...illicit substances.
After this brief realization you opt to take a look around. You find that the immediate area is fairly spartan, with little of note aside from a nightstand to your right, and a metal door a few feet or so farther then that. Atop the nightstand is a odd bit of dirty cloth with a bulge, as though something is underneath it.

Examine surroundings. Fix anyone looking too closely with a stare, where they can't tell if I'm looking due to the mask.

As you look around you notice first off, that the wallpaper is atrocious. Immediately afterward you notice that there is a closed door directly ahead of you, a few feet away from the foot of the clean, but plain, bed that you awoke in. To your left is another door, this one open and leading into a small bathroom. There is a cheap television set to the right, and a dining area fit to seat only 2 people, three in a pinch, next to that.

Look around while calling myself Rosendale.

You begin your morning...or you assume its morning, by testing out your new name right off the bat. It certainly seems to roll of the tongue, Rosendale. Yeah that sounds nice. You chant it quietly while you examine your surroundings.
You are in a room clearly intended for sleeping, the inclusion of the clean bed that you awoke on attesting to that. The walls to your left and ahead of you are adorned with a floral print, whereas those behind and to the right are made out of stone. Quite an odd arrangement. In the wall to your right there is a slit, almost like those in medieval castles. The non-stone walls each contain a door. They are both closed. There is a dresser placed under the window-slit and a wardrobe directly to your left.

[Fniff]

Stand up and take the cloth off to see what's underneath it. Look around the area to see if there's anything indicating where precisely I am: hotel? House? Apartment?

[sjm9876]

Open the closed door. Be prepared to react to any threat.

[Harry Baldman]

Take calendar, flip through all the months. Any other notes or circlings?

Once done, open window.

[Samarkand]

Search dresser and wardrobe. If there's a top hat, wear it. If not, I'll decide later. If there's still time, check if doors are locked without opening them.

[BFEL]

((Hmm...we seem to have lost our fifth player, Dorsidwarf. Might just be I didn't show who got in clearly enough. Oops. Well I'll PM him and if he doesn't show up I'll retcon Hatman in instead, as he has now completed his sheet.))

Open the closed door. Be prepared to react to any threat.

You carefully and stealthily move your way toward the door, expecting danger from any and all sources. As you reach the closed door you turn the knob and throw the door open, falling into a combat stance in preparation for the perceived threat.
As the door flies open you see that it leads into a hall with the same horrible wallpaper, and there is a door across the way with the number 504 hanging on it, indicating you are in a hotel.
When no attacker reveals itself you feel a bit silly and a young woman in a floral print dress approaches you with a slightly horrified expression on her face.

"What the heck did that door ever do to you?'

Search dresser and wardrobe. If there's a top hat, wear it. If not, I'll decide later. If there's still time, check if doors are locked without opening them.

As you search the dresser you find nothing particularly interesting, mostly pajamas. But the wardrobe reveals that there is in fact a top hat, which you rest comfortably upon your head, as if it was tailored exactly for you.
Afterward you trot over to check on the doors when suddenly they both open of their own accord. This reveals that the door ahead of you leads out toward a hallway with the same floral print as your room, with a door immediately ahead labeled 1069.
The door to your left however leads down a few stairs into a room fully stocked with beakers, Bunsen burners and all other manner of paraphernalia to make a chemist squeal with delight.

Stand up and take the cloth off to see what's underneath it. Look around the area to see if there's anything indicating where precisely I am: hotel? House? Apartment?

When you move the cloth off the unknown object, it reveals itself to be a small caliber pistol. The barrel is made of polished metal and the handle seems to have been carved out of a solid block of ivory. It is quite the stylish piece to say the least. As you look closer you notice the bottom of the handle is engraved with the letters "R.A."
The gun is pointed away from the bed you awoke on.

Take calendar, flip through all the months. Any other notes or circlings?

Once done, open window.

You pull the calendar off of the wall determined to discover any other clues you can. You begin with January, sporting a picture of a blonde woman in a "barely-there" bikini doing a split, as you scan the dates you find no notes or distinctive marks other then a few labeled holidays.
As you advance through the other months you find that the calendar provides no noteworthy information, but you notice something odd about the pictures. As you flip through they seem to...shift...until you reach December and find that the woman occupying that page looks exactly like yourself. As you look on in puzzlement the image changes in front of your eyes and you watch the calendar-you's skin melt off.
You quickly throw the calendar as far away as possible in a fit of panic.

[Harry Baldman]

How quaint. Skin-melting, you say? Well, continue not really caring. Open the window.

[Samarkand]

Check what chemicals are available!

[Fniff]

Ooh, nice gun. Pick it up, then check my pockets to see if I have anything of note in them.