Based off of the movie, in which a deaf writer living in the middle of the woods in near complete isolation is targeted by a stalker and murderer.
There are few rules:
- write well and detailed, please, though I can understand a one liner once in a while
- No intense gore, please, but violence is obviously allowed
- Swearing is allowed
- We don't have to stick to the movie plot, we can make some changes if you talk to me about it first
- I would like to be the writer, but I'm flexible
I may refuse you if you ask to join. Please don't take it personally.
I like the sound of this one! If you'll have me, I've roleplayed many stalker/murderer positions before, so I'll take whatever you prefer. I can give you an example of my writing or anything else you happen to need! Thanks for viewing this!
I would like a writing sample, yes please!
I’m glad someone found this though XD
Of course I found it, I've been needing a first roleplay, haha! Now, as for my example, any certain scenario you'd like for me to try, or should I make my own up?
I don't really mind what you write, but do it in your usual style you'd be using in the rp please
Sounds sweet.
"Sorrel stood at the edge of a vast and crystalline ocean. His eyes, reflecting the waves of the sea, were as bright as the sun. He looked towards the path to the left, the path he'd taken so long ago. He recalled the journey that the path happened to begin, and shook his head. "I'll not be taking that path again, as long as I can help it." He muttered, to himself, though the sirens' call still sounded around its entrance."
It's based on a story I wrote a little ago, I hope it works.
That's amazing
I'm so glad an actual great writer found this oh my gosh
I'm Amber, by the way, welcome (officially) to the rp :))
You've got me surprised, I criticize my writing so often, haha. Thank you, so, so very much. I'm honestly just glad this was open!
Would you like to write up some templates or hop straight in?
I think I'd like to hop right in. I do have two questions though. 1.) Would you prefer my character more "out to kill" or "out to stalk", or a little bit of both? I have an idea for it that might be fun. And 2.) Mind if you start? I am dreadful when it comes to starting. Thanks-
Alright, that works.
1) Probably a bit of both, as it sounds like you've got a plan
2) I do not mind at all
If you were to drive out of the city for about two and a half hours, you'd end up swerving along deserted forest roads. Were you to follow those roads deeper into the woods, you'd find a small handful of houses built amongst the nature, each about 5 miles apart. Only three of those houses were occupied, and only one of those three was currently lit up. In that house, a woman lived alone.
The agitated evening weather warranted that Ana lock up her doors early, or at least earlier than usual.
Although it was still around six in the evening, the sun had already ceded its place in the sky and night had fallen. Locking the last of the windows, Ana tucked the key into her sweater pocket and made her way back to the kitchen where her dinner was on the stove. She stirred happily, mulling a full chapter over in her head– she'd rewritten it so many times by now that the words had been ingrained in her mind. Once she'd settled on the perfect formulation, she'd be able to send her newest batch of chapters over to her editor, Marnie, and then she'd have peace for about two weeks before the next five chapters were being requested.
Jack yawned softly, as he continued his small stroll through the wooded area. He pulled his worn, old fedora down, just past his eyes. He glanced around at the nature that had happened to be there, and he softly groaned. "It's too beautiful," He muttered, wondering why the greens had to contrast his centrally grey attire. A soft breeze blew through the woods, as if they mocked him for his comment.
He then pulled out a little knife, that had very few stains on it. "I haven't exactly warmed you up in a while, dear." He whispered, as he tried to recall when his last target died. He just couldn't put his finger on it. He continued to walk, after that, looking through all of the trees. He noticed something that shined, different than the sun would. "Hmm. What's this, now?" He asked, as he began to make his way towards it.
( I hope I'm not setting my pace too quick. )
(Not at all)
Finally, when her plate was made, Ana went to sit at her coffee table. She took a seat on the floor, cross-legged, and pulled her laptop closer to her. Her back was to the window-doors that led onto her back porch.
She started typing, mouthing the words to herself as she went as her thin fingers flew across her keyboard, the end of the chapter taking shape on the blank computer screen. She hesitated once, changed the metaphor, and continued on. She'd entered the perfect, focused, empty state of mind that churned out quality writing, and she of course didn't hear the pot of soup she'd left cooking on the stove as it boiled over and spilled.
As he approached the light, he noticed that it wasn't something like the sun at all. Jack laid his eyes upon a house, in the middle of this forested area. He wanted a better look at it. He wanted to know who it was owned by, because clearly someone lives here. He spotted a tree that appeared stronger than the rest, and took it upon himself to climb it. As his height increased, he noticed her. A female, supposedly, inside of the house. He also saw that laptop. "Hmm. What's she up to?" He asked himself, quietly as he could.
( I've got to go at random times due to class changes, by the way. So if I ever don't respond, I've gone to another class. Apologies if this may hinder us. )
( I've got to go at random times due to class changes, by the way. So if I ever don't respond, I've gone to another class. Apologies if this may hinder us. )
(That’s alright, I can wait)
Ana was still typing furiously when she smelled smoke.
Frowning slightly, she got to her knees and looked around, immediately spotting the boiling liquid on the stove.
She leapt to her feet, stumbling slightly as she ran to her kitchen and shut off the flame, grabbing the pot with her bare hand and letting out a muffled scream as the metal scalded her skin.
She stepped back, took a deep breath, and wrapped a hand towel around the pot’s handle. She brought it over to the sink, running cold water over it and watching the steam rise.
"Is this woman insane?" Asked Jack, through gritted teeth. "She can't even cook- what kind of person can't cook?" He growled. As he realized her change of placement, he took himself down the tree. He moved closer to the back of the house, nearer to the window-doors that were there. "Hmm." He muttered, looking around what he could see inside. "So she'd rather spend her time on that screen than on the stove." He said, with a laugh. He moved himself behind some form of foliage, and tried to make sure he'd not be seen.
( You're so patient, thank you. )
Once the pot had been cooled down, Ana set it down in the sink and, grabbing a sponge, turned to stained sink. She sighed, blew a loose strand of flaming red hair out of her face, and started scrubbing at the pea-flavoured crust on the stovetop. She was intent in her work, never missing a spot and wearing the same focused expression she had had while writing.
He eyed her hand, the one that grasped the sponge. He noticed how meticulously she cleaned the stove top, and it really intrigued him. "Wow-." He said, in utter shock. "Maybe she's brighter than I'd have thought. I need to be careful with this one." He whispered. He took his left hand off the side of the house, and dropped it to the knife. He creeped a little closer towards the window-doors.
