amyy

Prisoner and Scientist: One Interesting Roleplay

Maria Lancaster stood straight as the hail pelted against her rain jacket, watching the muddied vehicle enter the facility with eyes narrowed against the wind. They were green, and tired despite the determined spark to them. This was the first time she'd been above ground in days. It took certain things out of a person, trying to make something which would save humanity out of men who wanted to see the world burn.

She watched a lone figure step out of the bus. Then the door closed, and it drove off.

"Where are the rest?" Maria questioned into the rain. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. The two men at her side either did not hear or chose not to.

"No, no. Where are the others!? I was promised thirty, twenty at the least!" She shouted at the guard to her left, half out of anger and half to be heard over the rain. One man wasn't enough. The lives of so many already weighed upon her shoulders and she was still far from creating anything of use. How was she supposed to get anywhere with one man? The guard finally shifted his gaze to look at her, and then glanced back into the distance straight ahead without a word. Maria tightened her jaw. If the end of the world didn't shake him, she doubted anything she did could. They did not have time to waste here.

"Come. You will be referred to as Z415." Maria refused to meet the prisoner's eyes. She turned to go back inside, and the two guards grabbed an arm each, securing the prisoner between them back to the facility.

It was a vast space, inside. Machines whirled amongst tanks and helicopters and men shouting orders at one another. Maria lead the three of them to an elevator which dropped down below the surface of the earth into a cold laboratory as vast as the space above it, if not more. Maria wasted no time in stepping out of the elevator and removing her rain jacket. The labcoat underneath had a nametag with LANCASTER printed in bold. She started to retrieve several items from the cubicles which greeted them.

"Do you have any medical conditions? Smoke? Drugs?"

The computer systems had been damaged and what was left of it was reserved for things more important than the medical histories of prisoners. The man could lie, of course. But soon there won't be anyone left to deceive. Maria turned to the prisoner and handed him a set of clean off-grey clothing, as well as a bar of soap and a toothbrush. This must be awfully familiar for the guy.

"You will take a shower and then we can begin. Have you eaten?"

Wouldn't it be tragic to have their only hope die from something so stupid.

@SgtEasy

Prisoner and Scientist: One Interesting Roleplay

Okaaay got it.



Her name is Maria Lancaster.

Children of A Revolution [For Karos]

....lol I didn't realize how much I rely on italics to convey meaning until I tried to finish a post on my phone and mobile version doesn't do italics NO MA'AM. Sorry if anyone (@Karos) ever reads this thread on mobile and the flashbacks/past dialogue is confusing.

Children of A Revolution [For Karos]

Anastasiya shrugged as he took the weapon. "A family name is given, everything else must be earned. It would hardly be fair of me to judge you based upon what has been given." She had seen one too many sons of great men fall short. "Papa had only bragged about your scholarly ways, but I suppose you are more than that." Anastasiya watched the man disassemble, and then reassemble. She smiled again. "We will have to go shooting sometime."

She walked to stand beside Nikolai and picked up a different pistol, resuming what she had been doing. When she had been much younger her father had understood it so well - that politics came out of the barrel of a gun, nothing else. Then people grew rich and they grew soft, and weapons grew rusty. Anastasiya was the only one who comes to this room now.

At the question she turned her body to face Nikolai again.

"I hear we are to be wed." She answered, but it was also a question. Did he want to be wed? Why wasn't he already?

Prisoner and Scientist: One Interesting Roleplay

I WILL FIND SOMETHING SOON I PROMISE.
I am not used to using play-by's.

& Looking forward to it! 8D

Children of A Revolution [For Karos]

...a respectable young man by the name of Nikolai Barakohv I'd like you to meet. Now our families have been friends since before either of you were born, so none of your funny business.

The last man who'd come knocking on their door had fallen off Anastasiya's horse. It was hardly her fault that the men of the town were so delightfully unimpressive.

When she heard the door open Anastasiya did not turn around. It would be one of the servants, or if she was late enough - her father himself come to get her. As an unfamiliar voice sounded however, she did turn, pistol still in hand.

It did not take elaborate guesswork to figure out who could be standing in front of her. A young man, dressed in expensive furs looking respectable as ever. She studied his face for a long moment, from the dark hair to the glasses to the gentle eyes to the manicured moustache to the clean-cut jaw. Barakohv. The name was engraved into several of the weapons here. But it was not this man's - his father's, maybe, or his father before that. There did not appear to be anyone with him, so surely there was no need for formality.

"Know much about guns, Nikolai?" Or do you only bury your head in books.

Anastasiya slid back the chamber of the pistol in hand and popped out the bullets in one fluid motion, all the while having her eyes trained on the man. A smile appeared on pink lips as she offered both items to him with the gun's barrel downturned - partly playful, partly a challenge.

One Post Wonder

Yaaaaas I miss spontaneous improv intros.
Will be contacting you soon Zurnt!

Children of A Revolution [For Karos]

1914, Petrograd, Russia.

Rated: M, probably

Winter ran wild in Petrograd. It was not only the cold but also the wind, howling across the vast land and cracking unforgivingly against any surface which came in its way, never allowing even the fallen snow to rest for too long. One needed to cover themselves with the coats of animals if they hoped to survive. Many didn't; outside the embrace of the Palace, souls were unfortunate enough to wander the streets without a home. At night not even the vodka could keep them warm, and come morning they were often frozen solid, blue eyes full of questions staring up at a grey sky.

Winter was also white. So, so very white, as if it had come to cover the sins of the land and its people.

“Halt!”

Anastasiya Bolshova, dressed from head to toe in dark riding gear, stood at the mouth of the forest behind the Bolshov estate. Her voice was drowned out by the wind.

"Aleksander, halt!" She cracked the whip in her hand.

The sound of hooves slowed, no longer spraying up snow behind them as a great beast came to a stop in front of her. He understood the crack of the whip just as much as her words. Anastasiya chuckled as the horse panted white clouds into her face, giving him a pat of praise on the neck. Aleksander had been acquired some years ago as a gift - an expensive gift, at that, and clearly a favourite. A Kabarda with a pure black coat which currently gleamed with sweat.

Anastasiya led him back to the stables, crunching snow under black boots. She is supposed to be elsewhere, she thought as she glanced toward the darkened windows across the field. A man come to take her hand. Or as Anastasiya saw it, a ludicrous arrangement in the most inappropriate of situations.

This is hardly the time for marriage, Papa. We should be focusing on the situation with the socialists. They're quickly increasing in numbers and if we do not act now-

She secured Aleksander in his stall and once again stepped into the cold, heading for the manor.

It's sweet to see you worry, Nastusha. But we have the situation under control. You don't really think we will be rattled by a few liberals, do you dear? This is the last we will speak of this matter. Tomorrow we have a respectable young man...

Anastasiya stepped inside and shook off the snow from her head, shoulders, and everywhere else. Her dark hair was braided so tightly not even the winds could rustle it. She was gifted with the dark brows and eyes to match, stark against her pale skin, cheeks rosy from the cold. They will see about that. A certain respectable young man can sit at the respectable dining table and eat his respectable caviar while making respectable conversation. There were other matters which needed tending to.

She headed for the armory, far away from the dining room where she suspected this respectable young man and his family was with hers. The armory was a room familiar to Anastasiya, and she began to polish the pistols laid out on a long table cutting across the space until the cold metal glinted sharply in the light. Along the walls lined rifles, and more archaic weaponry like swords and knives. At least they spoke the language Anastasiya knew needed to be spoken.

@Karos

Run with me, little beast! (all pairings, plots, original)

@ Koda

Aw okay, no worries, maybe another time then!

Run with me, little beast! (all pairings, plots, original)

I should start putting up intro samples soon lol I am l a z y.