forum The Cracks in our Knowledge (Closed OxO | 18+, Rated R, Mature Audiences Only)

Started March 14, 2023 by Deleted user

tune

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Murderer. Torturer. Retched beast.

They all called you (Character B) that after your little "experiments" were discovered.

But you knew. You knew it was all for their own good. The voices had even said so. The voices were never wrong, after all. They whispered secrets and stories, they whispered vile spells and incantations, winning you over more and more.

But the villagers couldn't understand. All they saw was a mad, crazy person.

And so did everyone else.

Until they met me (Character A.) I heard the voices, too, calling out, long ago. I listened, and they showed me things that truly helped everyone, gave everyone peace, gave everyone the privilege of resting in my Lord's dark grace.

I told you to join me and my Lord, for we could teach you things and help you stake your claim in the village as the best healer and scientist there.

But your goals eventually grew larger. You wanted more. And you got more, though at a heavy price.

Now, you must travel alongside me forever.

Emotionless. Barren. Undead. Bound.

This roleplay is about Character B being completely insane and being found doing atrocious things to people and animals, from around the village, and getting kicked out. My character, Character A, finds B conducting what limited experiments they could out in the forest, and provides them with an offer to make a deal with their patron, the Lord of Knowledge.

This roleplay wil cover just before B gets kicked out and will end. . . well, I don't know when.

Trigger warning: This roleplay will cover torture of humans and mentions of animal abuse. Graphic scenes of violence and mutilation will be commonplace during the course of the roleplay. TL;DR: Body horror, torture, vague mentions of animal abuse.

I will ask for a writing sample. Do not send one until I ask. I reserve the right to say no.

andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer)'s Rules apply.

This is from another RP, it was a starter is why it’s so long, but if you need something that’s more what I would normally post, I can find one of those.
My posts may shorten to 2-5 paragraphs depending on the day, inspiration and the amount of details given to me from the previous post.

Cyris had ran again. It was his 283rd escape in the nine years he had been 'hired' by Silo, Master Silo, as he liked to be called. It hadn't taken long for Cyris to figure out that, though he was well fed, well clothed and sheltered comfortably, he was a slave for Silo. He was fourteen when his adoptive father, Captain Fioln had sent him to work for the bastard.

Instead of getting paid money, he was told the privilege to live there was enough. Cyris instantly disliked Silo, and on purposely never looked at him. Until he was 15. Shortly after his fifteenth birthday, Cyris had made a run for it. Only to be caught, dragged back and whipped 10 times. Each time after that, the lashings increased by 10. So on his tenth escape, he received 100 lashings.

He knew he was an idiot, to still be making a run for it, especially with the 500 lashings he would get. He wondered why they stopped adding lashings at 500, and after a while, realized they didn't want to beat him to death. Their mistake. If they wanted him to stop running, they'd have to kill him.

He lived in the capital somewhere, his adoptive father told him, in what was once called Nevada. He was on the run towards north-west California, and he was just outside a small town. He wondered if he should go in, or go around it, as he knew the pursuers were hot on his tail. He shifts, pulling his hood up over his head and sighs, his hand resting at the gun on his hip, and behind it, the beautiful knife Fioln had sent him for his 16th birthday.

He's go in, he needed food anyways, and he could probably hide amoungst the other people. He jumped off the rock he was sitting on, his boots thumping onto the ground and walked into town, keeping the hood over his head.

Looking around, he saw a bakery and smiled slightly, wondering is the bread was any good. He walks inside, his steps silent. He found out that walking and making sound was difficult, and he prefer to be silent anyways. He looks around, making sure to keep his flat red hair hidden.

He was told his hair was the only thing keeping him alive, as well as his amber eyes. The perfect look for someone within the Scarlet Broches, but he wasn't 'perfect' enough to be his own person. With his pale skin not taking in the sun and he was too short for a male. He never understood that one, why the males had to be at least 6ft by maturity.

He walks up to the counter, silent and waits.