Pablicosta
25-02-2004, 17:43
OOC-This RP is set arround one main character whom has been taken to death before his time. You may RP as an aquaintance in heaven, or a passing angel or profit.
IC:
JUST SHUT UP JOHN! I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANY MORE!
Look Shelly, we can sort this out. Give it a chance? Come on
John's brown eyebrows raised slightly with hope, maybe she could take him back?
Sheely was facing a bookcase, so John could only see her blonde high-lighted hair running over her shoulders. He could hear her sobbing, but he dare not get closer.
Then she spoke, between sharp intakes of breath.
No-John. I Ca-n't take it-not now. Get out!
Look, Hunny
GET OUT!
John ducked as a bookslammed against the wall behind him, knocking a china plate onto the floor.
Smash!
As he rose a second book struck him on the forehead, he turned rashly and swung his brown jacket over his shoulder.
Fine, I'm gone
With that he marched out of the mahogony doorway and into the street. Immediatley he was hit by rain bouncing off the floor and into the sheltered porch.
He groaned loudly, put his arms through his jacket sleaves and began walking. The rain hit him hard in the face, and his slick gelled hair wuickly turned into a gunky mess.
He could feel his hair gel sliding down his face, dripping off his ears an irritating his eyes.
Damnit! he called out, bu nobody as listening to him.
As he walked truck drivers would stare, in this area of Molenuex it was certainly irregular to leave the house in the rain. And that was an understatement. The paths were so empty it was allmost ghost like, except for the constant splash of rain pounding existing puddels.
As he walked across The Raven street bridge he watched a garbage tug sailing away into the freedom, he kept walking.
He didn't notice the transition from Paving underfoot to Asphelt as he began idely (Spelling) walking through the center of the Molenuex Pheonix Highway.
He didn't even notice the bright lights shiniing in the puddles, the rain, his eyes.
Hooooonk. Hooooooooonk
A truck screamed out to him, its headlights beaming on him.
Shit! he screemed as he dived to his left.
Two slow, the speeding truck caught his ankle as he leapt and spun him right arround. he lay un-conscious in the second lane, untill the skidding trucks payload T-boned on him.
4 wheels ran over his torso.
He had no time to screem, but he knew the pain was very very real, for the few moments of life left he tried to scream and move with pain. Nothing.
------------>12 Minutes Forward.
Hello, hello Whats your name? Sir, wake up.
A paramedic leant over John's limp body, feeling for a pulse. His finger went all over John's throat.
Were way to late for this guy, no pulse, no breathing. Fixed and Dilated. Lets get him back, the Morgue Me-thinks.
------------>8 minutes Previous
John sat upon a white bench in a room with white floors, white walls, white roof. The only break in the Abyss of white was several Grey Stone pillars.At the far end of the room was a man standing by a Customs like gateway, holding a palmtop and speaking too another man.
John looked arround him, the bench ran right up to the Customs man, on his right-leading toward the gate-everyone was smiling, happy people who laughed. On his left everyone was slouching, asleep most snoring quietly.
The man on his right turned to him.
Uh, Hi. Am I in hospital? John spoke quitley, carfull not to disturb the others.
His neighbour laughed for a moment and then said;
You remind me of me, 12 minutes ago now. Exactly. Hey son, good news-Your dead.
John stuttered for a moment, and looked shocked.
Dead?
He still whispered, but the other man was speaking louder than normal.
Yeah Son, you'r dead. Oh, and you don't have to whisper, the guys on my side are allready dead, the guys on your side are not dead yet, but their on the way. Like you, you been sitting slouched al the time I been here. Well, untill you woke up.
The bench moved abbout a foot, and everyone on it was shuffled along with it.
One step closer ey Son? That's a god thing atleast, your going to heaven.
Oh great, I'm dead-and you think it's good. You hope to make me happy by saying I'm going to heaven. I don't think so, I have never been to church. Ever.
Oh Son, That stuff doesn't matter these days. Now you just gotta be a good soul. Ulike those guys
He pointed across the room
All going to hell Son, bad souls, bad souls.
John passed out.
IC:
JUST SHUT UP JOHN! I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANY MORE!
Look Shelly, we can sort this out. Give it a chance? Come on
John's brown eyebrows raised slightly with hope, maybe she could take him back?
Sheely was facing a bookcase, so John could only see her blonde high-lighted hair running over her shoulders. He could hear her sobbing, but he dare not get closer.
Then she spoke, between sharp intakes of breath.
No-John. I Ca-n't take it-not now. Get out!
Look, Hunny
GET OUT!
John ducked as a bookslammed against the wall behind him, knocking a china plate onto the floor.
Smash!
As he rose a second book struck him on the forehead, he turned rashly and swung his brown jacket over his shoulder.
Fine, I'm gone
With that he marched out of the mahogony doorway and into the street. Immediatley he was hit by rain bouncing off the floor and into the sheltered porch.
He groaned loudly, put his arms through his jacket sleaves and began walking. The rain hit him hard in the face, and his slick gelled hair wuickly turned into a gunky mess.
He could feel his hair gel sliding down his face, dripping off his ears an irritating his eyes.
Damnit! he called out, bu nobody as listening to him.
As he walked truck drivers would stare, in this area of Molenuex it was certainly irregular to leave the house in the rain. And that was an understatement. The paths were so empty it was allmost ghost like, except for the constant splash of rain pounding existing puddels.
As he walked across The Raven street bridge he watched a garbage tug sailing away into the freedom, he kept walking.
He didn't notice the transition from Paving underfoot to Asphelt as he began idely (Spelling) walking through the center of the Molenuex Pheonix Highway.
He didn't even notice the bright lights shiniing in the puddles, the rain, his eyes.
Hooooonk. Hooooooooonk
A truck screamed out to him, its headlights beaming on him.
Shit! he screemed as he dived to his left.
Two slow, the speeding truck caught his ankle as he leapt and spun him right arround. he lay un-conscious in the second lane, untill the skidding trucks payload T-boned on him.
4 wheels ran over his torso.
He had no time to screem, but he knew the pain was very very real, for the few moments of life left he tried to scream and move with pain. Nothing.
------------>12 Minutes Forward.
Hello, hello Whats your name? Sir, wake up.
A paramedic leant over John's limp body, feeling for a pulse. His finger went all over John's throat.
Were way to late for this guy, no pulse, no breathing. Fixed and Dilated. Lets get him back, the Morgue Me-thinks.
------------>8 minutes Previous
John sat upon a white bench in a room with white floors, white walls, white roof. The only break in the Abyss of white was several Grey Stone pillars.At the far end of the room was a man standing by a Customs like gateway, holding a palmtop and speaking too another man.
John looked arround him, the bench ran right up to the Customs man, on his right-leading toward the gate-everyone was smiling, happy people who laughed. On his left everyone was slouching, asleep most snoring quietly.
The man on his right turned to him.
Uh, Hi. Am I in hospital? John spoke quitley, carfull not to disturb the others.
His neighbour laughed for a moment and then said;
You remind me of me, 12 minutes ago now. Exactly. Hey son, good news-Your dead.
John stuttered for a moment, and looked shocked.
Dead?
He still whispered, but the other man was speaking louder than normal.
Yeah Son, you'r dead. Oh, and you don't have to whisper, the guys on my side are allready dead, the guys on your side are not dead yet, but their on the way. Like you, you been sitting slouched al the time I been here. Well, untill you woke up.
The bench moved abbout a foot, and everyone on it was shuffled along with it.
One step closer ey Son? That's a god thing atleast, your going to heaven.
Oh great, I'm dead-and you think it's good. You hope to make me happy by saying I'm going to heaven. I don't think so, I have never been to church. Ever.
Oh Son, That stuff doesn't matter these days. Now you just gotta be a good soul. Ulike those guys
He pointed across the room
All going to hell Son, bad souls, bad souls.
John passed out.