Drip... [Serious RP] [Currently Closed RP]
The steady drip from the faucet was enough to drive anyone mad. Drip ... drop ... drip ... drop ... drip ... drop... It was Chinese water torture, an old, but still effective method. Drip ... drop ... drip ... drop... The man was tied to a chair and forced to listen to the constand drip of the water for several hours. Drip ... drop ... drip ... drop... drip... drop... Someone else, dressed all in black, entered the room. That person seemed to be the one who held the man in the chair hostage. Drip ... drop ... drip ... drop... The man dressed in black smiled.
"Who are you?" the hostage asked. There was silence for the moment - all was silent except for the dripping sound in the background. Drip ... drop ... drip ... drop...
"I think I should be the one asking the questions," the mysterious captor replied. "If you answer them correctly, I might even turn off the faucet." The dripping sound continued as the captive considered the deal. Drip ... drop ... drip ... drop ... drip ... drop...
[OOC: Don't post here yet. It's still a closed RP until the plot develops enough.]
Drip ... drop ... drip ... drop ... drip ... drop... The noise from the faucet was interrupting the captive's thinking. He needed it to stop. "Alright!" he told his captor. "I'll answer your questions." The captor turned at the hostage and smiled.
"You want me to turn the faucet off so you can answer questions?" he asked. Drip ... drop ... drip ... drop ... drip ... drop... The captive nodded. "However, I must warn you - if you don't answer all of my questions truthfully, you'll get worse torture." The captor went over to the sink to turn the faucet off. Drip ... drop ... drip ... drop. The sound stopped.
The captor turned to the hostage again. "Are you ready to answer questions?" The captive nodded, so the captor pulled out a needle."
"W-what's that?" the nervous hostage asked.
"Truth serum," replied the captor casually as he walked over to the hostage. "I find it very much decreases one's ability to lie. The rewards are far greater than the risks - for me that is." The captor grinned as he injected the liquid in his captive's arm.
Danneland
06-03-2004, 16:41
tag
Que 1: NBC come into the RP.
Rebecca Adams was an NBC investigative reporter. She had gone to Nanakaland for the weekend to see how NNNN, the Nanakan branch of NBC, was doing. While in Nanakaland, Rebecca stayed in a four star hotel in Port Nanaka. One day, when taking a walk in Port Nanaka, she noticed something....
Cyberutopia
06-03-2004, 17:44
((Taggishness.))
I don't need to check up on NNNN, thought Rebecca. Especially now. She had noticed that in a supposedly empty warehouse, there were noises. When she went closer, she heard a steady drip. That wouldn't have aroused her suspisions if there wasn't also talking. Two men seemed to be talking in a warehouse that shouldn't have had anyone in there.
Rebecca moved closer to the warehouse. She peaked in a window and noticed a man walking over to turn a faucet off. She then noticed that man had some drug, probably illegal, in a needle and was injecting it in another man who was tied up to a chair.
"Who are you?" the captor asked.
"Who are you?" replied the hostage.
"It will only take a few minutes for the truth serum to kick in," replied the captor. "Then you won't make smart-mouthed replies." The captor turned to the sink. "In the mean time, I'll keep you busy with some more Chinese water torture." He turned on the faucet slightly, giving the dripping effect. He then went into another room in the back of the warehouse, presumably to get some more torture tools. Drip ... drop ... drip ... drop...
That explains the dripping noise and the talking! thought Rebecca, looking at the scene via the window. I've got to do something! She went away from the window and ran to the nearest police station as fast as she could. She needed to do something...
A Few Rich People
06-03-2004, 18:57
Tag
Later on, in the main police station of Port Nanaka, Rebecca had just ran in, panting. She went to a secretary. "Excuse me," the reporter said. "I need to see the chief of police immediately."
"One moment please," the secretary replied.
"What part of immediately don't you understand!?" Rebecca said, frustrated.
"One moment please," the secretary replied as if Rebecca didn't just shout at her.
Several minutes later, Rebecca managed to make it to the chief of police. Even then, it was difficult.
"There's illegal activity going on in an abandoned warehouse," she explained.
"Tell me something I don't know," the chief of police replied as if Rebecca just said there was a fair going on.
"But a man is being tortured!" she protested.
"What is your name?" the chief asked.
"Rebecca Adams," she replied. "Why?"
"Rebecca Adams," the policeman said, going through Rebecca's file. "Rebecca Adams ... used to work for True News - a very false tabloid news network.... Arrested on three separate accounts for libel ... and now working as an investigative reporter for NBC. I don't think I can trust you. You've lied so many times just for fame, I don't think anyone could ever trust you. Get out of my police station now!"
Rebecca was frustrated. They just didn't believe her! As she left the police station, she realized that the police weren't going to help her at all. There was only one other hope. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed NBC headquarters. Hopefully someone at NBC would believe her and forward the message to anyone who could help.
Drip ... drop ... drip ... drop... It seemed forever when the captor was away getting his torture tools. A forever of complete silence on that dark night - complete silence except the constant dripping. When the captor returned, it wasn't any better. "What is your name?" he asked his hostage as he held up a very strange looking device.
"I'm not... I... I..." the hostage said. He looked at the device. "I'm Senator Thomas Smith, the President's son!" he blurted out.
"Good," replied the captor, grinning.
President Michael J. Smith left the LoD embassy. "What do you mean my son has been kidnapped?" he asked.
"You heard me," the Special Forces Commander said for the tenth time in the past hour. "Your son has been kidnapped by an unknown group and you may also be targeted. We have to take you to Fort Nanaka immediately."
She couldn't get through to the NBC headquarters, so she hung up and prepared to dial again. It was then that here phone rang. She answered it. "Hello?"
"Can you explain why you haven't yet investigated NNNN?" asked a voice on the other end.
"Yes," replied Rebecca. "It is because -"
"This is it!" exclaimed her boss. "You can't keep doing this! You're fired!" Rebecca was about to defend herself, but there was a click. Her boss had hung up. There was only one more hope for help.
"Hello?" the captor said on his cell phone. "Oh. Skull. ... No, boss. ... Of course. ... Yeah. ... Victory is ours! ... Bye. ..."