RP Samples
Opening for a Watchmen roleplay- Rorschach
Rorschach's Journal: July 4, 1967 - It's late. Eleven o'clock, but fireworks in East River Still going strong. Can hear the people cheering, fascinated by bright colorful lights. For a few brief hours the virus infecting this city is placated. Will be running rampant soon enough. They never unite for long.
Even from here the smell of smoke reaches across from the garish bursts in the sky. Pathetic.
Waited since seven outside Giordano's apartment when he arrived home. Still no activity. Possibility of sneaking out unlikely. Beginning to doubt mob involvement, but he's up to something His neighbors are loud, unruly. Their laughter and obscenities drowned out by The Buckinghams blaring on the radio...
"Hrm." Rorschach lowered his pen. There was nothing to write about. No clues on the Jacobi case. No leads on the mob. Only distant eruptions and music. A waste of time. He stood, scuffing the toe of his worn boot against the concrete roof he'd been crouched on. For the most part it had been a pretty quiet evening, being a national holiday and all. The people of New York City had gathered close in various locations to watch the fireworks displays and whatever other activities they had ready at hand.
Gloved fingers twitched in irritation. Obviously this location was a dead end, but he was hesitant to leave. He'd been tracking Vanni Giordano for a week now, following clues that he might have been behind some of the gang robberies downtown, but nothing had turned up. It would have been easier to go if he knew that his partner would follow up. It had been Daniel, in fact, who requested Rorschach keep his violence to a minimum while following this suspect. He'd thought they might find out more by being stealthy, but Daniel was soft. Rorschach knew it would have been so much easier to beat the man until he gave up what he needed, but out of respect for his partner he restrained instinct. However, if things continued on like this, Rorschach fully intended to disregard Nite Owl and proceed full force.
Excerpt From Repo! roleplay- Graverobber
“Shit!” He swore again, out loud this time the word uttered behind a sharp intake of breath. Whatever misgivings he’d had about the Repo’s current state were soon drowned out by the loud alarm bells ringing in his head; the most primitive part of his brain screaming at him to run. Bathed in shadows the other man dropped from his full height into a predatory crouch.
Run!
A glint of silver belonging to the scalpel… The subtle bunching of muscles…
Run!
In the blue glow of his mask the Graverobber could see the narrowed eyes were fixed on him. Their gazes met and it was if someone had given him an electric shock.
RUN!
As the assassin tensed, ready to spring at any given moment, the dealer stiffly held his position, calculating the other’s movements. The air felt thick and heavy around them. Suffocating. Tension so great it was almost tangible After what seemed like ages, but could only have been seconds he made the decision to move first. Backpedaling, the dealer whipped around, broken glass grinding into the pavement beneath his heel, and took off into the night faster than he could ever remember moving in his life. How could he have been so careless? To let himself be seen by the one person he’d hoped never to encounter. This was bad.
The bag slapped against his thigh as he darted around corners, dodging garbage cans, and weaving between alleys to throw the presumed hunter off his trail. With the streets so abnormally void of life it made the clinking of glass vials and pounding of feet seem that much louder. Did everyone have some sixth Repo sense that went off whenever the man was near? If so, that was one surgery he’d have to consider getting, because he sure as hell didn’t have one.
Pausing briefly in a darkened back lot several blocks away, he listened intently for the sound of approaching footsteps and scanned the area, before scaling up a nearby fire escape. Once he reached the top of the building the young man finally felt secure enough to stop running. No way the Repo man would have been able to keep up. Not with all that heavy clothing and equipment.
Besides, Graverobber knew these streets like the back of his hand. Every twist, every hidden passage and crumbling apartment. He had more networks than any other in his profession. And last he checked, no one had been following him. Hell, he didn’t even know if Geneco’s prized hitman had actually decided to chase him or not. For all he knew, the man was back in the alley collecting whatever it was he’d come for and chuckling over the reaction he’d elicited.
Yeah, that’s probably what happened.
The Graverobber dropped to his knees, breathing heavily and clutching at the stitch in his side. That was way too close, he thought, peering over the edge of the roof, just to make sure there weren’t any monsters under the bed so to speak. He’d wait up here a while until he’d recovered from the incident and it felt safe to leave again. Hopefully that time came soon.
Rorschach's Journal: July 4, 1967 - It's late. Eleven o'clock, but fireworks in East River Still going strong. Can hear the people cheering, fascinated by bright colorful lights. For a few brief hours the virus infecting this city is placated. Will be running rampant soon enough. They never unite for long.
Even from here the smell of smoke reaches across from the garish bursts in the sky. Pathetic.
Waited since seven outside Giordano's apartment when he arrived home. Still no activity. Possibility of sneaking out unlikely. Beginning to doubt mob involvement, but he's up to something His neighbors are loud, unruly. Their laughter and obscenities drowned out by The Buckinghams blaring on the radio...
"Hrm." Rorschach lowered his pen. There was nothing to write about. No clues on the Jacobi case. No leads on the mob. Only distant eruptions and music. A waste of time. He stood, scuffing the toe of his worn boot against the concrete roof he'd been crouched on. For the most part it had been a pretty quiet evening, being a national holiday and all. The people of New York City had gathered close in various locations to watch the fireworks displays and whatever other activities they had ready at hand.
Gloved fingers twitched in irritation. Obviously this location was a dead end, but he was hesitant to leave. He'd been tracking Vanni Giordano for a week now, following clues that he might have been behind some of the gang robberies downtown, but nothing had turned up. It would have been easier to go if he knew that his partner would follow up. It had been Daniel, in fact, who requested Rorschach keep his violence to a minimum while following this suspect. He'd thought they might find out more by being stealthy, but Daniel was soft. Rorschach knew it would have been so much easier to beat the man until he gave up what he needed, but out of respect for his partner he restrained instinct. However, if things continued on like this, Rorschach fully intended to disregard Nite Owl and proceed full force.
Excerpt From Repo! roleplay- Graverobber
“Shit!” He swore again, out loud this time the word uttered behind a sharp intake of breath. Whatever misgivings he’d had about the Repo’s current state were soon drowned out by the loud alarm bells ringing in his head; the most primitive part of his brain screaming at him to run. Bathed in shadows the other man dropped from his full height into a predatory crouch.
Run!
A glint of silver belonging to the scalpel… The subtle bunching of muscles…
Run!
In the blue glow of his mask the Graverobber could see the narrowed eyes were fixed on him. Their gazes met and it was if someone had given him an electric shock.
RUN!
As the assassin tensed, ready to spring at any given moment, the dealer stiffly held his position, calculating the other’s movements. The air felt thick and heavy around them. Suffocating. Tension so great it was almost tangible After what seemed like ages, but could only have been seconds he made the decision to move first. Backpedaling, the dealer whipped around, broken glass grinding into the pavement beneath his heel, and took off into the night faster than he could ever remember moving in his life. How could he have been so careless? To let himself be seen by the one person he’d hoped never to encounter. This was bad.
The bag slapped against his thigh as he darted around corners, dodging garbage cans, and weaving between alleys to throw the presumed hunter off his trail. With the streets so abnormally void of life it made the clinking of glass vials and pounding of feet seem that much louder. Did everyone have some sixth Repo sense that went off whenever the man was near? If so, that was one surgery he’d have to consider getting, because he sure as hell didn’t have one.
Pausing briefly in a darkened back lot several blocks away, he listened intently for the sound of approaching footsteps and scanned the area, before scaling up a nearby fire escape. Once he reached the top of the building the young man finally felt secure enough to stop running. No way the Repo man would have been able to keep up. Not with all that heavy clothing and equipment.
Besides, Graverobber knew these streets like the back of his hand. Every twist, every hidden passage and crumbling apartment. He had more networks than any other in his profession. And last he checked, no one had been following him. Hell, he didn’t even know if Geneco’s prized hitman had actually decided to chase him or not. For all he knew, the man was back in the alley collecting whatever it was he’d come for and chuckling over the reaction he’d elicited.
Yeah, that’s probably what happened.
The Graverobber dropped to his knees, breathing heavily and clutching at the stitch in his side. That was way too close, he thought, peering over the edge of the roof, just to make sure there weren’t any monsters under the bed so to speak. He’d wait up here a while until he’d recovered from the incident and it felt safe to leave again. Hopefully that time came soon.