[NGE-2] Egg
Oct 26, 2022 12:26:35 GMT
Post by Doctor Nanjo M.D. on Oct 26, 2022 12:26:35 GMT
Name: Guillermo Glas
Age: 31
Appearance: Appearance is up to you but here are some suggestions: bow tie, dance shoes, pompadour, glitter, overly expressive face.
Bracelet Picture: A speckled blue egg
Personality: romantic, explosive emotion, tries to insert himself into every conversation, melodramatic poses, very anxious yet brave
Backstory:
---
Your father smiles to you gently, "Son, when you grow up, I just know that you're going to make the world a brighter place."
You look up at your father. In many ways he looks just like you, but several times your age. His grey hairs and wrinkled eyes betray his age, however. Your father is very dear to you. You admire him. These words are another one of his affirmations, but they fill you with a sense of purpose and an eagerness to take on the world.
"Okay dad! I'll do it!" you eagerly throw your hands up like you're about to make a change in the world instantly, but your father chuckles nonchalantly.
"Well, you don't have to start doing anything. Just the way you are, little by little, you're going to move the mountains of this earth, and make the world a better place for all those poor and in need," your father states with deep sincerity. "So, even though you're small, I already know all of that about you and your future."
You look at your father curiously and he senses your confusion. He elaborates, saying, "You have such a strong sense of wonder that you change the world around you to be wonderful. People will flock to you and approach the world with a new wonder, and that will cause their cold hearts to melt. Maybe not quickly, but for someone like you it's possible."
You smile for your father, "Do you really think that?" For some reason, the idea of making the heart of a cold-hearted person melt makes you instantly happy. Almost as if it is your calling.
Your father nods to you, "Of course, Guillermo. But it's up to you to keep doing what you're doing. Some people change a lot when they get older. I hope that as you change, you keep the things about you that we talked about today."
You nod and pump your fist in the air, "Of course dad! I love you!" Your father gives you a hug around the arms and a kiss to the head. Later that night, you dream of travelling deep into the lair of a witch, and then the witch, instead of hurting you like she might want, learns to like the world a little more through you. You wake up eager to one day have an adventure of the sort.
---
Steeple Street always has had rumors surrounding it. There have been strange happenings up and down the block. Pets going missing, strange electronic interference, and a figure has been spotted in people's yards.
Your decision to scope out Steeple Street excites you. This is exactly the kind of good-natured andventure you enjoy. You take out a bag of pretzel sticks and begin nibbling on them as you sit in your car in the dark, watching for any hooded strangers that may appear.
It's night time. You're not that far from where you grew up, but you are a man who's well into your twenties now. It might be weird if anyone catches you sitting in your car and eating pretzels, but you are friends with many of the people living in this neighborhood. You would be able to talk to any cops who came through.
In general, probably your biggest weakness is thinking you can always just smooth talk your way out of any scenario.
You glance outside your car, and as if from nowhere at all, a hooded figure stands feet away from your bumper. You glance around, stupidly trying to explain where the hooded figure came from. Sweat forms on your neck as your brain starts running away with various fears.
You know better though than to listen to your brain. You know that regardless of what has been going on here on Steeple Street, this person probably would not dare to hurt you.
You roll down your window, "Hey! I hope you're having a good night! Have you heard of what's been going on here on this street?"
Your statement prompts no words from the figure, but they draw out a canister of something, throwing it into your car. It hits the ground by your feet with a click. Your brain races with all the worst case scenarios this could mean.
No matter how many things you thought of though, nothing prepares you for the smoke filling your car. You can't believe what's happening, and you wonder if you're going to be killed. You call out to the figure one more time, but soon your vision fades.
---
You kneel, hopeless. Blood stains your almost flawless face and hands. The corpses of Trerro and Uyslys lay before you, impaled upon spears. Tears run down your face repeatedly and you scream in frustration.
"Just kill me! Kill me like you did to the rest of them! I don't want to live if it means another day with you!" Your voice cracks, straining as your mind strains just as hard. Your entire reality is unravelling just like the blood draining outwards from the corpses.
Your three friends, who you fought so hard to save countless times here in this strange mansion were finally dead. You could only escape deadly traps and horrifying situations so many times.
Your voice echoes around the cavernous dance hall and there is no response from your captor. You continue urging her to kill you as well, but it's not happening.
For seven years, you grew close with the three of them. When Piwmere died earlier in the day, it was the worst thing to ever happen to you. IT was confoundingly horrible and left a massive space in your heart that could not be filled. Piwmere had been such a witty and unflappable person. You were interested in one day escaping this place with him and moving to an apartment in the city. He was killed in front of all of you by his mother, also known as the Witch of Steeple Street, the very same woman you attempt to contact now.
Of course, you were able to morn with Trerro and Uyslys earlier. The four of you had all become close over time. However, the two of them are now gone as well, "Come do to me what you did to them! I loved them, you cold-hearted bitch!"
You stand up, a sort of crazed expression on your face. After you got kidnapped seven years ago and trapped in the witches mansion, you did well keeping your sanity intact despite the situation.
You have not seen your father for years, but you always have had hope that you will see him, if you just find an exit with the help of your friends.
Uyslys was the servant of the witch. At first he would try to help the witch capture you and trap you, but you were charming, and eventually you managed to win him over from the witch. The witch was not kind, and she lacked any sort of emotional availability. The witch always had to have the last laugh, but until now you always thought she had limits to how miserable she would make you. You thought she liked watching you squirm, but she went so far that there is no coming back. Not now, not ever.
Trerro was another who was captured by the witch after seeing your kidnapping. He wanted to help you. And he helped you so much every day with cooking and helping you center your thought process. But he was gone too.
And so, without all of the people keeping you bound within the realm of rationality, you go one step further, and reach for the spear. Perhaps this will be the ending that you need.
Suddenly, as you go to take the spear, you here the voice of Nuwmere. It's heavy and unfeeling. It's the type of voice that shocks your brain due to how serious it is. Your body slows as you hear the words, "Forget about them. You're better off alone. I knew since the moment we met that you were a one-of-a-kind model. So you deserve a stage to yourself. That's fair."
You don't look at her but you hear a noise of a rattling chain. A cage falls down on top of you, capturing you before you can escape this reality.
"We'll have a lot more time to play together... Congratulations on being truly... the best."
Your mind desperately tries to go blank. Your grief is overbearing all controls. You are lonely to the core.
- Mysterious stranger
Your life no longer has meaning. The witch is victorious over you, and everyday you are awoken to be toyed with by the witch in traps and trials. You have lost sense of time.
As you rest for a while in your cage, a memory comes to the surface of your brain. It isn't of any of your friends, at least not any of the ones who died. This other friend never died, you don't think, but you don't recall ever learning what happened to them.
You never saw their face, you had met them while shrowded in darkness and they barely ever talked over a whisper. They spoke highly of you though in admiration and had confessed their love for you. They had watched you from elsewhere in the mansion, and they found your struggles admirable and beautiful.
You had been astonished at the revelation, after all it was a person you hadn't known, at least you thought that you did not know. The warmth of their love did find its way to your heart, however.
You wonder now if that person had been telling the truth and what happened to them. Are they still alive in this mansion somehwere, wandering endlessly for another chance to speak with you?
Your embarassment rises as you remember what you had said, that you loved them too, even if you didn't know them. What an embarassing thing to say! You wish ardently that you hadn't said that.
However, your words had been reciprocated with a kiss in the complete darkness! So maybe you did something right after all? Why was your mind so muddied by this? Weren't you a brave hero?
After your kiss, you reached out for them but couldn't find them again. Then, as time went on you suspected it had to have been a friend who just never told you it was them.
As you think though, a cold thought runs through you. Was it Nuwmere? Had the witch done all of this out of some sort of sick love for you?
With all those thoughts spinning in your head, your brain hurts deeply. You curl up in the cage given to you by the witch. You fall asleep.
Age: 31
Appearance: Appearance is up to you but here are some suggestions: bow tie, dance shoes, pompadour, glitter, overly expressive face.
Bracelet Picture: A speckled blue egg
Personality: romantic, explosive emotion, tries to insert himself into every conversation, melodramatic poses, very anxious yet brave
Backstory:
---
Your father smiles to you gently, "Son, when you grow up, I just know that you're going to make the world a brighter place."
You look up at your father. In many ways he looks just like you, but several times your age. His grey hairs and wrinkled eyes betray his age, however. Your father is very dear to you. You admire him. These words are another one of his affirmations, but they fill you with a sense of purpose and an eagerness to take on the world.
"Okay dad! I'll do it!" you eagerly throw your hands up like you're about to make a change in the world instantly, but your father chuckles nonchalantly.
"Well, you don't have to start doing anything. Just the way you are, little by little, you're going to move the mountains of this earth, and make the world a better place for all those poor and in need," your father states with deep sincerity. "So, even though you're small, I already know all of that about you and your future."
You look at your father curiously and he senses your confusion. He elaborates, saying, "You have such a strong sense of wonder that you change the world around you to be wonderful. People will flock to you and approach the world with a new wonder, and that will cause their cold hearts to melt. Maybe not quickly, but for someone like you it's possible."
You smile for your father, "Do you really think that?" For some reason, the idea of making the heart of a cold-hearted person melt makes you instantly happy. Almost as if it is your calling.
Your father nods to you, "Of course, Guillermo. But it's up to you to keep doing what you're doing. Some people change a lot when they get older. I hope that as you change, you keep the things about you that we talked about today."
You nod and pump your fist in the air, "Of course dad! I love you!" Your father gives you a hug around the arms and a kiss to the head. Later that night, you dream of travelling deep into the lair of a witch, and then the witch, instead of hurting you like she might want, learns to like the world a little more through you. You wake up eager to one day have an adventure of the sort.
---
Steeple Street always has had rumors surrounding it. There have been strange happenings up and down the block. Pets going missing, strange electronic interference, and a figure has been spotted in people's yards.
Your decision to scope out Steeple Street excites you. This is exactly the kind of good-natured andventure you enjoy. You take out a bag of pretzel sticks and begin nibbling on them as you sit in your car in the dark, watching for any hooded strangers that may appear.
It's night time. You're not that far from where you grew up, but you are a man who's well into your twenties now. It might be weird if anyone catches you sitting in your car and eating pretzels, but you are friends with many of the people living in this neighborhood. You would be able to talk to any cops who came through.
In general, probably your biggest weakness is thinking you can always just smooth talk your way out of any scenario.
You glance outside your car, and as if from nowhere at all, a hooded figure stands feet away from your bumper. You glance around, stupidly trying to explain where the hooded figure came from. Sweat forms on your neck as your brain starts running away with various fears.
You know better though than to listen to your brain. You know that regardless of what has been going on here on Steeple Street, this person probably would not dare to hurt you.
You roll down your window, "Hey! I hope you're having a good night! Have you heard of what's been going on here on this street?"
Your statement prompts no words from the figure, but they draw out a canister of something, throwing it into your car. It hits the ground by your feet with a click. Your brain races with all the worst case scenarios this could mean.
No matter how many things you thought of though, nothing prepares you for the smoke filling your car. You can't believe what's happening, and you wonder if you're going to be killed. You call out to the figure one more time, but soon your vision fades.
---
You kneel, hopeless. Blood stains your almost flawless face and hands. The corpses of Trerro and Uyslys lay before you, impaled upon spears. Tears run down your face repeatedly and you scream in frustration.
"Just kill me! Kill me like you did to the rest of them! I don't want to live if it means another day with you!" Your voice cracks, straining as your mind strains just as hard. Your entire reality is unravelling just like the blood draining outwards from the corpses.
Your three friends, who you fought so hard to save countless times here in this strange mansion were finally dead. You could only escape deadly traps and horrifying situations so many times.
Your voice echoes around the cavernous dance hall and there is no response from your captor. You continue urging her to kill you as well, but it's not happening.
For seven years, you grew close with the three of them. When Piwmere died earlier in the day, it was the worst thing to ever happen to you. IT was confoundingly horrible and left a massive space in your heart that could not be filled. Piwmere had been such a witty and unflappable person. You were interested in one day escaping this place with him and moving to an apartment in the city. He was killed in front of all of you by his mother, also known as the Witch of Steeple Street, the very same woman you attempt to contact now.
Of course, you were able to morn with Trerro and Uyslys earlier. The four of you had all become close over time. However, the two of them are now gone as well, "Come do to me what you did to them! I loved them, you cold-hearted bitch!"
You stand up, a sort of crazed expression on your face. After you got kidnapped seven years ago and trapped in the witches mansion, you did well keeping your sanity intact despite the situation.
You have not seen your father for years, but you always have had hope that you will see him, if you just find an exit with the help of your friends.
Uyslys was the servant of the witch. At first he would try to help the witch capture you and trap you, but you were charming, and eventually you managed to win him over from the witch. The witch was not kind, and she lacked any sort of emotional availability. The witch always had to have the last laugh, but until now you always thought she had limits to how miserable she would make you. You thought she liked watching you squirm, but she went so far that there is no coming back. Not now, not ever.
Trerro was another who was captured by the witch after seeing your kidnapping. He wanted to help you. And he helped you so much every day with cooking and helping you center your thought process. But he was gone too.
And so, without all of the people keeping you bound within the realm of rationality, you go one step further, and reach for the spear. Perhaps this will be the ending that you need.
Suddenly, as you go to take the spear, you here the voice of Nuwmere. It's heavy and unfeeling. It's the type of voice that shocks your brain due to how serious it is. Your body slows as you hear the words, "Forget about them. You're better off alone. I knew since the moment we met that you were a one-of-a-kind model. So you deserve a stage to yourself. That's fair."
You don't look at her but you hear a noise of a rattling chain. A cage falls down on top of you, capturing you before you can escape this reality.
"We'll have a lot more time to play together... Congratulations on being truly... the best."
Your mind desperately tries to go blank. Your grief is overbearing all controls. You are lonely to the core.
- Mysterious stranger
Your life no longer has meaning. The witch is victorious over you, and everyday you are awoken to be toyed with by the witch in traps and trials. You have lost sense of time.
As you rest for a while in your cage, a memory comes to the surface of your brain. It isn't of any of your friends, at least not any of the ones who died. This other friend never died, you don't think, but you don't recall ever learning what happened to them.
You never saw their face, you had met them while shrowded in darkness and they barely ever talked over a whisper. They spoke highly of you though in admiration and had confessed their love for you. They had watched you from elsewhere in the mansion, and they found your struggles admirable and beautiful.
You had been astonished at the revelation, after all it was a person you hadn't known, at least you thought that you did not know. The warmth of their love did find its way to your heart, however.
You wonder now if that person had been telling the truth and what happened to them. Are they still alive in this mansion somehwere, wandering endlessly for another chance to speak with you?
Your embarassment rises as you remember what you had said, that you loved them too, even if you didn't know them. What an embarassing thing to say! You wish ardently that you hadn't said that.
However, your words had been reciprocated with a kiss in the complete darkness! So maybe you did something right after all? Why was your mind so muddied by this? Weren't you a brave hero?
After your kiss, you reached out for them but couldn't find them again. Then, as time went on you suspected it had to have been a friend who just never told you it was them.
As you think though, a cold thought runs through you. Was it Nuwmere? Had the witch done all of this out of some sort of sick love for you?
With all those thoughts spinning in your head, your brain hurts deeply. You curl up in the cage given to you by the witch. You fall asleep.