( this is by far the best roleplay I've ever been involved in. The plot is just thick enough, and there's enough oppurtunities for humor for this to be absolutely halarious. I really like it. Might make it into a short story???)
Sure, but please don’t involve my character or any of her ideas)
(I love it too! Very unique idea!)
I crawl forward through the ducts, ignoring my claustrophobia per usual as the walls press in on me. I refuse to let my breath catch, refuse to acknowledge my strained breathing.
( this is by far the best roleplay I've ever been involved in. The plot is just thick enough, and there's enough oppurtunities for humor for this to be absolutely halarious. I really like it. Might make it into a short story???)
Sure, but please don’t involve my character or any of her ideas)
(I love it too! Very unique idea!)
trust me I won't. Just waterfalling lmao
( this is by far the best roleplay I've ever been involved in. The plot is just thick enough, and there's enough oppurtunities for humor for this to be absolutely halarious. I really like it. Might make it into a short story???)
Sure, but please don’t involve my character or any of her ideas)
(I love it too! Very unique idea!)trust me I won't. Just waterfalling lmao
This is a ton of fun!
"Girls! Samantha! Hello?" I yell, wandering into the girls bathroom trying to find them.
(Guys I'm actually working on a story with this kind of plot. XD)
Addison looked around, spotting Oakley. "Hey!" She jumped out of the air duct. "Now I remember why you looked so familiar!"
I crawl out of the vent, breathing a sigh of relief. “Hey.”
I watch as Addison jumps down out of the air duct and I walk over to her.
"Addison Grace," I shake my head. "How did you get out?"
"Ehhh………my sister is pretty persuasive. And resourceful." She smiled. "Glad to see you alive and well."
"No thanks to you." I smile and shake her hand. "The Montague that was chasing you, he's knocked out in the foyer."
“Oh thank god. I thought I was going to have to kill him.” I untie the pizza box from my ankle.
I laugh. "Not necessary. Besides, now the desk lady is plenty scared of me. I bought him a room. We can carry him up and question him."
Addison raised her eyebrows, shaking Oakley's hand. "What? I'm a little out of practice. Besides, I couldn't risk him getting his hands on my backpack."
"Oh yeah?" I tease Addison. "A little out of practice? Anyway, thank you for the food Capulet. I'm starving."
I flash her a grin. “The one on the rught is cheese, the one on the left is prochuto and olives. I had gelato, but we had to leave it behind. Also, garlic bread.”
(She still has the bread)
(May I join?)
(of course you can join just weave your way in)
"Thanks." I toss her one set of keys, Addison the other, and take the third for myself. "I'm going to drag the Montague upstairs to my room. Get settled in. I'll meet you all up on my patio in about half an hour?"
I nod, finding my room and flipping down on the bed.
Florence Hestia (Dr. Hestia, archaeology.)
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Lesbian
Looks: Golden, dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, sandy skin tone.
Persona: Brilliant, a little harsh, sweet, reclusive, secretive.'
Bio: A tourist, looking at museums and archaeological dig sites, suddenly gets mixed up in the family feud.
Other: Wears a red dress without sleeves or shoulders that goes down to the thighs, under a khaki cardigan, with sneakers and Ravenclaw knee high socks, British.
It was an old cobblestone inn, with stained glass windows an old frail woman at the center desk. My boots click on the floor as I walk toward the Montague man "Max" and hook my arms under his, dragging him slowly across the floor and up the staircase. By the looks of it, he was going to be out for a while. The blood on his nose had dried but it was definitely broken, and he had the telltale dark hair and olive skin of one of ours. He was wearing a black vest and jeans, with a white business shirt that had a coffee stain on the sleeve. He'd been to get coffee then, which means he must have followed me. I had to figure out if he'd talked to anyone on the way.
I jam my key into the lock and lug him the rest of the way into my spacious room, complete with wooden floors and a high ceiling. I put him in a wingback wooden chair in the center of the room, far away from any surfaces, and tie his arms to the chair with the cord from the clothesline out my window, as well as his ankles. And then, to put a finishing touch on my masterpiece, I wake him up my snapping his nose back into place. His eyes fly open and he lurches forward, a fresh stream of blood flowing from his purpling nose.
"Ti sei fatto un traditore, Sebastien's Daughter." He growls. "You are a traitor to your blood."
"Newsflash." My eyes widen playfully, pulling the dagger out of my boot. "I'm not actually a Montague, and neither are you by the looks of it. I've never even met you before."
"Ah, but you have." He pulls at the cords and they tighten, a lovely trick I picked up in the streets. I pull his phone out of his front pocket and unlock it, glancing through his text messages. "I am Justin Montague, your uncle."
"Oh good." I sigh dramatically. "Then I definitely don't know who you are."
Florence was walking down the street. She heard a small group of people say something about 'Capulet'. She thought, Well, I never knew Shakespeare was so popular.
She was heading to a nearby dig site, to ask about how the trade culture grew. She just needed to stop by the hotel.