NoticeMeAnon

Smoke has Memory (NoticeMeAnon x themaybreeze)

The senior journalist, Jacqueline, sat across from Hera at her own desk with her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the young woman excitedly dive into the folder. She couldn't help but chuckle. Despite Hera working her for such a short time, the girl was quite enthusiastically wonderful to work with.

When asked about the case, Jacqueline tilted her head to the side in thought. Most locals knew Edgeworth Manor as the go-to destination for high school field trips to learn about the history of their little town, others knew it for being 'haunted' by the manor's own resident. Although there has been no definitive proof. "I'd read up on it first. There's been some speculation around Mr Edgeworth's death, but it has always been ruled out as a tragic accident. I mean.." The woman trailed, shrugging her shoulders. "How does a man know in his century as the greatest engineer lose his life to the house he built himself?"

The woman turned her chair back to her desk to face her computer, fingers flying across her keyboard as she pulled up an article or two from the library archives to find a newspaper clipping from that time. With a long painted finger nail she pointed at a line in the article, 'Fire and Rescue were astonished at the exceeding rate the household fire consumed. Experts point to the many, many papers that were strewn about the home, while others say that it was the man's own work that brought him down.'

Jacqueline half-turned in her chair, looking over her shoulder at Hera. "If you aren't afraid of ghosts, maybe the man himself can straighten out the facts." She teased with a wink. "In any case, work the angle you think gives you the best evidence. No many have been able to find out any information that doesn't send them into a mindless circle. Hell, even the mediocre ghost hunters that visit haven't gotten anything from the house except a few flickering lights."

Smoke has Memory (NoticeMeAnon x themaybreeze)

The house was already dying.

Smoke curled low along the ceiling, stinging Nathaniel Edgeworth’s eyes as he ran. The floorboards beneath his boots groaned in protest, each step echoing too loudly in the narrow hallway as he clutched the papers tighter against his chest. Schematics, notes, margins crowded with hurried handwriting—proof of a lifetime’s work compressed into a sheaf of trembling pages.

He could hear them behind him. The sound of men who believed the night was already won. “Nathaniel!” someone called. “This doesn’t have to end badly.”

He turned the corner too fast. His shoulder slammed into the wall, pain flaring bright and sharp, but he didn’t stop. The heat was unbearable now, licking up the walls, devouring the curtains he’d hung himself years ago. He could smell burning paper somewhere nearby and felt a spike of cold terror cut through the haze.

Then the gunshot rang out.

The sound cracked through the house like a final verdict. Nathaniel’s breath left him in a broken gasp as the force threw him forward. The papers flew from his arms, scattering across the floor in a white, fluttering arc. Some slid into shadow, others instantly kissed by sparks and flame. He hit the ground hard, palms scraping uselessly against the wood as warmth spread beneath him, far too fast to be fire.

His vision blurred, smoke filled his lungs, and somewhere distant glass shattered as the fire took another room.

By the time the fire engines screamed into the night, red lights painting Edgeworth Manor in frantic color, there was nothing left to save. They found him sprawled in the hall, body already cooling, the house collapsing inward around him. No weapon was found, no papers were left behind, only a man declared dead by smoke inhalation and structural failure.

An accident, the report would say.

A tragedy.

—

Present day.

The file hit the desk with a dull, dusty thud.

“Edgeworth Manor,” the senior journalist said, fingers lingering on the stack as if weighing its worth. “Burned down just shy of a century ago. Owner died inside. No surviving family. Case closed before anyone asked the right questions.”

The folder was thick. Almost too thick for a simple house fire. Black-and-white photographs spilled out when it was opened: charred beams, warped staircases, a single hallway frozen in ruin. Nathaniel Edgeworth stared back from an attached portrait, unsmiling, eyes sharp and thoughtful beneath neatly combed hair.

“Senior civil engineer,” the journalist continued. “Supposedly on the brink of something big when he died. Government contracts. Private consultations. Then, poof.” A small, humorless gesture. “Gone.” They slid an additional envelope across the desk. “Anniversary’s coming up. Someone out there wants answers badly enough to bankroll three months of your time. Travel, access, whatever you need.” They paused their words, a look of uncertainty before continuing. “Anonymous sponsor. Only condition is that anything you find about Edgeworth’s work—anything at all—comes back to them.”

An odd, ghosty request

Genre: Paranormal Romance · Mystery · Slow Burn · Historical Echoes
Tone: Atmospheric, emotional, suspenseful, intimate
Status: Looking for 1 partner

In 19XX, Nathaniel Edgeworth should have become one of the greatest civil engineers of his generation.

Instead, he died alone in the burning halls of his own home.

The official report called it an accident. A tragic house fire that claimed the life of a brilliant man and destroyed his life’s work. The case was closed quickly. The papers he was last seen clutching were never recovered, and the circumstances surrounding his death were quietly forgotten by everyone except those who stood to benefit from his silence.

Nearly a century later, Edgeworth Manor is little more than a name buried in old files and soot-stained photographs.

Until a someone(this is you!) comes across Nathaniel’s file.

With the anniversary of the fire approaching, the you are offered a generous, anonymous sponsorship to investigate Edgeworth Manor and uncover the truth behind Nathaniel’s final project. No one is interested in ghost stories. They want facts. Schematics. Proof. Anything that survived the fire.

What they don’t expect is that Nathaniel never truly left.

Bound to the remains of his home and the secret he died protecting, Nathaniel exists now as something quiet and watchful. He remembers the night of the fire. He remembers the gunshot. He remembers the papers slipping from his hands. And now someone is walking his halls again...

This roleplay explores the slow unraveling of a decades-old conspiracy, the ethics of dangerous knowledge, and a romance that grows between a man who died protecting his work and the one person willing to see him as more than a mystery to be solved.

What I’m looking for:

-A literate to advanced partner who enjoys slow-burn romance and character-driven plots

-A journalist or investigator character (open to interpretation and customization)

-Willingness to explore moral gray areas, emotional intimacy, and paranormal tension

-Novella or multi-paragraph replies preferred

If you enjoy haunted houses with history, ghosts who are more tragic than terrifying, and romances built on trust, curiosity, and quiet defiance, this story may be for you!

Feel free to message me with writing samples, questions, or ideas — I’m happy to build and tailor details together.

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Thank you all for the warm welcome <: I much appreciate it~

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Don't push yourself or you're going to push yourself away!

@wAo

I am going to frame this and put it on my wall. I needed to hear that, thank you.

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Oddly enough, I started on the older end of Facebook and occasionally QuoteV. Back when there were groups for Black Butler and Fairy Tail and the squished together general public. I miss those days.

I figured I would try my hand again to see if this rusty bucket can still write fluently. If not I'll just vanish into shame, again :>
But I literally just googled some roleplay sites and this one one of the few that didn't seem like a headache to get into.(I'm looking at you Iwaku)

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ヽ(⌐_⌐ゞ) Glad to be here! Thanks for the welcome

HELLO.

WELCOME TO THE REST OF YOUR LIFE

And welcome to RPGuild. :)

@wAo

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Hey there! I'm NoticeMeAnon!

I'm 23 years old and have been roleplaying for over 10 years now. It's been an amazing journey, and I've had the chance to explore so many different genres and characters along the way. I’m primarily a gamer and my heart belongs to RPGs(sorry, not sorry). There’s just something about the depth of storytelling, the characters, and the worlds that keep me coming back.

I love writing romance, drama, and fantasy! I'm not big into mainstream Anime, but I do occasionally dabble.

Anyway, I don't know where I'm going with this, but-- HI!