Hi! I'm creating this because I've had a couple of first posts that I was/am pretty proud of, but the story didn't go anywhere- or hasn't yet! If you're looking for inspo, a muse, or just want to read some posts that never went anywhere, this is the place for you!
Instead of a graveyard, I'd like for this to be a place of second chances. If you see something that makes you go "OOOH!!! *Sparkly Eyes*," then please feel free to use it and twist it into something of your own: from character creation to background stories to rp ideas.
If you'd like to add your own "first posts" that never went anywhere, please feel free to do so!
Please note: This is not the place to look for RP. If you get an idea from these fledgling stories, please post it in the proper forum!
Instead of a graveyard, I'd like for this to be a place of second chances. If you see something that makes you go "OOOH!!! *Sparkly Eyes*," then please feel free to use it and twist it into something of your own: from character creation to background stories to rp ideas.
If you'd like to add your own "first posts" that never went anywhere, please feel free to do so!
Please note: This is not the place to look for RP. If you get an idea from these fledgling stories, please post it in the proper forum!
Waves crashed over the bow of the ship, and the ship rolled and bobbed, barely able to stay afloat. They were slammed repeatedly by waves. The rain pounded on the wooden deck. "Take down the sail!" a burly man with a thick white beard pointed up at the sail which was threatening to tear away from the howling wind.
Men scrambled back and forth on deck, following orders and trying to tie down anything that might blow away. Some things had already been lost to the sea. During a particularly bad swell, a man was washed overboard. Shouting filled the air as attention was drawn and someone went to fetch the lifesaver. Several deckhands formed a chain to help try and retrieve their fallen crewmate. Annalise was part of that chain. The man who'd fallen overboard was like an uncle to her. She grit her teeth, pulling with all her might. The ship was violently slammed by a swell, dipping the bow under for a couple of seconds. As it corrected itself, two of the men at the front lost their footing and went over as well.
Annalise lost sight of her uncle and tried to tell the two men that they'd be alright. She cried out for assistance, but all the other crew members were busy dealing with all the miscellaneous things that were coming up. Her arms trembled and burned as she maintained her grip, her hands slick with blood and water. She was losing them, the rope slowly pulling through her hands. Please. Please! she plead to some invisible god- anyone or anything that would help her.
Suddenly, the water was still. A large shadow hung over the ship. With terrified eyes, she watched as a wave formed easily tripling the height of their ship. Without a moment to think, the wave came crashing down, forcing everyone on deck overboard. The ship tumbled through the water like a toy, and the pounding waves kept it from resurfacing.
Annalise groaned as she came to, sea water lapping at her ankles. Her hair was a tangled mess of sand, twigs, and blood. She dragged herself onto the shore and rubbed her arms as a shiver ran through her. The storm still carried on, but on land, it seemed less impactful somehow. "Hello?" she called out, staggering to a standing position. "Dad? Teddy?" Her voice echoed back to her, the only response she'd get, it seemed. She sniffed before a strong shiver wracked her body. It was freezing!
The wind plucked at her hair and tugged at her clothes. One second, it'd plaster the cold, wet, scratchy fabric against her, then the next, it'd pull it away. The wind even had teeth. Bits of sand flew through the air, abrading any visible skin and making keeping her eyes open a challenge.
Annalise wandered further up the beach, finding herself at a tree line. It seemed her options were either to stay out on the beach exposed to the elements or wander into this thick and foreboding forest. With a hard gulp, Annalise stepped into the forest. She pushed branches out of her way, some catching her hair and pulling at it as she trudged a path. She hissed in pain at each snag. The wind as quieter here, but it almost sounded like whispers. The trees were a shade of grey and seemed rather veiny- as if starved of water and hanging on by a thread. The leaves brushed against each other, raising their voices as the wind sped through. Again, Annalise found herself shiver- whether from the cold or the forest, she did not know.
After roughly thirty minutes of aimless wandering, Annalise was exhausted. Her stomach was empty; her throat parched. She painted lightly, fighting against the darkness that threatened to consume her. Her head pounded. Right as she thought she couldn't go on, the forest seemed to open up. A gently worn path presented itself. She still had to fight with branches and thorns, but it was a lot less intense. The road, she found, led to a mansion. It was old and weathered. The roof looked like it wanted to cave in and was just being held up by a thread. The windows were cracked and broken, but it'd have to do. Anything was better than being outside for a moment longer.
Annalise reached the door and turned the handle. It wasn't locked, but it hadn't been used in so long that even turning the knob produced a loud whine from its mechanics. Annalise released it and then tried again, grunting with effort as she twisted with all her might and leaned into the door. Still, it refused to give. With determination set on her brow, Annalise rolled up her sleeves and mustered all the strength and anger that she could find. She took in a sharp inhale and twisted the knob. She threw her bodyweight into the door, and at last, it gave way.
The wind screamed as she let herself in. It blew hard as if trying to keep the door open. Annalise frowned, being splashed by small rain droplets. With considerably less effort than it had taken to open the door, she shut it, hands shoulder width apart, her body stretched. She panted lightly, her clothes dripping onto the dusty floor. Now inside, Annalise felt her strength starting to fade. She turned her back to the door and slid down, her knees coming up to meet her chest. She panted and shivered, her head cradled by her kneecaps. She felt terrible, and the world spun somewhat. When was the last time she was even on land?
As her breathing returned to normal, she noticed a rich and heavy scent lingering in the air. It seemed odd for an old, abandoned house to have any other scent than rot. With her heart no longer beating in her ears, she soon realized that there were noises coming from further in and that it wasn't just the sound of her clothes dripping.
It sounded like twigs breaking with too much regularity for it to be chalked up to the house settling. Annalise pushed herself to stand up, the world violently unstable for a moment. She bit down the bile and took a slow, deliberate breath. She balled her hands into fists and raised her chin, putting one foot in front of the other before she could even question why she was going towards the sound. On her way, the wind slammed against the windows, shaking the panes violently. It was then that Annalise noticed that the windows weren't broken at all. They were whole, and this mansion wasn't cold, as she'd imagined it'd be, either. She pursed her lips together, willing her feet forward even though everything in her told her to leave.
She felt an immense sense of dread. Branches clawed at the windows in sad high-pitched bursts of sound, as if warning her to go. Still, she pressed on. A light came into view at the end of the corridor. The door was slightly ajar. As Annalise reached it, she paused, hand outstretched. Did she really want to go inside? Surely this house was large enough to contain her and still hide its secrets. She didn't have to know what lay beyond this door producing an unnerving and unnatural light. She didn't, but she pushed the door open anyways.
Her breath caught in her throat as she spotted the creature among the plants. It was very monotone- a splendid assortment of various whites and greys and hues. As it looked to her and their eyes met, Annalise stared back, wide-eyed. After a second, she was out of the room and sprinting back to the front door. She hadn't screamed or made any other sounds- just the sounds of her boots thudding against the wooden floor. Her chest heaved as she reached the door. She clawed at the doorknob, trying to turn it and pull on the door to get out. The knob refused to budge, and the door was just another part of the wall. Her panic rising, she ran over to a window and punched it with all she had. It wasn't enough! The glass didn't shatter! Looking around wildly, she picked up the nearest object and smashed it against the window. Again, the glass held.
Out of breath and feeling like she was out of time, Annalise tried to find a place to hid, running to an armchair positioned in a dark corner and balling up on the side hugging a wall. She bit her lower lip, trying to hide the sound of her heavy, rapid breaths.
Men scrambled back and forth on deck, following orders and trying to tie down anything that might blow away. Some things had already been lost to the sea. During a particularly bad swell, a man was washed overboard. Shouting filled the air as attention was drawn and someone went to fetch the lifesaver. Several deckhands formed a chain to help try and retrieve their fallen crewmate. Annalise was part of that chain. The man who'd fallen overboard was like an uncle to her. She grit her teeth, pulling with all her might. The ship was violently slammed by a swell, dipping the bow under for a couple of seconds. As it corrected itself, two of the men at the front lost their footing and went over as well.
Annalise lost sight of her uncle and tried to tell the two men that they'd be alright. She cried out for assistance, but all the other crew members were busy dealing with all the miscellaneous things that were coming up. Her arms trembled and burned as she maintained her grip, her hands slick with blood and water. She was losing them, the rope slowly pulling through her hands. Please. Please! she plead to some invisible god- anyone or anything that would help her.
Suddenly, the water was still. A large shadow hung over the ship. With terrified eyes, she watched as a wave formed easily tripling the height of their ship. Without a moment to think, the wave came crashing down, forcing everyone on deck overboard. The ship tumbled through the water like a toy, and the pounding waves kept it from resurfacing.
Annalise groaned as she came to, sea water lapping at her ankles. Her hair was a tangled mess of sand, twigs, and blood. She dragged herself onto the shore and rubbed her arms as a shiver ran through her. The storm still carried on, but on land, it seemed less impactful somehow. "Hello?" she called out, staggering to a standing position. "Dad? Teddy?" Her voice echoed back to her, the only response she'd get, it seemed. She sniffed before a strong shiver wracked her body. It was freezing!
The wind plucked at her hair and tugged at her clothes. One second, it'd plaster the cold, wet, scratchy fabric against her, then the next, it'd pull it away. The wind even had teeth. Bits of sand flew through the air, abrading any visible skin and making keeping her eyes open a challenge.
Annalise wandered further up the beach, finding herself at a tree line. It seemed her options were either to stay out on the beach exposed to the elements or wander into this thick and foreboding forest. With a hard gulp, Annalise stepped into the forest. She pushed branches out of her way, some catching her hair and pulling at it as she trudged a path. She hissed in pain at each snag. The wind as quieter here, but it almost sounded like whispers. The trees were a shade of grey and seemed rather veiny- as if starved of water and hanging on by a thread. The leaves brushed against each other, raising their voices as the wind sped through. Again, Annalise found herself shiver- whether from the cold or the forest, she did not know.
After roughly thirty minutes of aimless wandering, Annalise was exhausted. Her stomach was empty; her throat parched. She painted lightly, fighting against the darkness that threatened to consume her. Her head pounded. Right as she thought she couldn't go on, the forest seemed to open up. A gently worn path presented itself. She still had to fight with branches and thorns, but it was a lot less intense. The road, she found, led to a mansion. It was old and weathered. The roof looked like it wanted to cave in and was just being held up by a thread. The windows were cracked and broken, but it'd have to do. Anything was better than being outside for a moment longer.
Annalise reached the door and turned the handle. It wasn't locked, but it hadn't been used in so long that even turning the knob produced a loud whine from its mechanics. Annalise released it and then tried again, grunting with effort as she twisted with all her might and leaned into the door. Still, it refused to give. With determination set on her brow, Annalise rolled up her sleeves and mustered all the strength and anger that she could find. She took in a sharp inhale and twisted the knob. She threw her bodyweight into the door, and at last, it gave way.
The wind screamed as she let herself in. It blew hard as if trying to keep the door open. Annalise frowned, being splashed by small rain droplets. With considerably less effort than it had taken to open the door, she shut it, hands shoulder width apart, her body stretched. She panted lightly, her clothes dripping onto the dusty floor. Now inside, Annalise felt her strength starting to fade. She turned her back to the door and slid down, her knees coming up to meet her chest. She panted and shivered, her head cradled by her kneecaps. She felt terrible, and the world spun somewhat. When was the last time she was even on land?
As her breathing returned to normal, she noticed a rich and heavy scent lingering in the air. It seemed odd for an old, abandoned house to have any other scent than rot. With her heart no longer beating in her ears, she soon realized that there were noises coming from further in and that it wasn't just the sound of her clothes dripping.
It sounded like twigs breaking with too much regularity for it to be chalked up to the house settling. Annalise pushed herself to stand up, the world violently unstable for a moment. She bit down the bile and took a slow, deliberate breath. She balled her hands into fists and raised her chin, putting one foot in front of the other before she could even question why she was going towards the sound. On her way, the wind slammed against the windows, shaking the panes violently. It was then that Annalise noticed that the windows weren't broken at all. They were whole, and this mansion wasn't cold, as she'd imagined it'd be, either. She pursed her lips together, willing her feet forward even though everything in her told her to leave.
She felt an immense sense of dread. Branches clawed at the windows in sad high-pitched bursts of sound, as if warning her to go. Still, she pressed on. A light came into view at the end of the corridor. The door was slightly ajar. As Annalise reached it, she paused, hand outstretched. Did she really want to go inside? Surely this house was large enough to contain her and still hide its secrets. She didn't have to know what lay beyond this door producing an unnerving and unnatural light. She didn't, but she pushed the door open anyways.
Her breath caught in her throat as she spotted the creature among the plants. It was very monotone- a splendid assortment of various whites and greys and hues. As it looked to her and their eyes met, Annalise stared back, wide-eyed. After a second, she was out of the room and sprinting back to the front door. She hadn't screamed or made any other sounds- just the sounds of her boots thudding against the wooden floor. Her chest heaved as she reached the door. She clawed at the doorknob, trying to turn it and pull on the door to get out. The knob refused to budge, and the door was just another part of the wall. Her panic rising, she ran over to a window and punched it with all she had. It wasn't enough! The glass didn't shatter! Looking around wildly, she picked up the nearest object and smashed it against the window. Again, the glass held.
Out of breath and feeling like she was out of time, Annalise tried to find a place to hid, running to an armchair positioned in a dark corner and balling up on the side hugging a wall. She bit her lower lip, trying to hide the sound of her heavy, rapid breaths.
Hayden frowned, looking up at the shrine. A large tori gate framed the shrine brilliantly. It was rather high up and there were many stairs between here and the top. White flowers lined the sides of the steps, and some vines wound around the tori gate, sporting violet and white blooms and buds. Hayden wore a traditional montsuki. Loud, rhythmic drumming rang out from the top of the shrine, and the area was alive with motion. This shrine in particular had drawn tons of people. If one focused on some of the people, they didn't seem quite right. Hayden clenched his jaw, trying to force his mind away from the chills that he felt- like something hungry was watching him. The bustle of the shrine put him at edge, but it made sense.
This time of year drew in many tourists., and there were tons of festivals happening around the same time. This shrine was one of the many, but it certainly was eye catching. Hayden didn't believe in silly things like gods or deities, but here he was. He didn't intend to pray at the shrine, though. This was all to get his inheritance. He was supposed to be meeting a family member or things at the top of the steps. Hayden clenched his hands, steadying his nerves. He wouldn't ever consider his father or anyone else as family, but he found himself nervous all the same. What would they think of him?
Months ago, Hayden had received a letter from someone claiming to be family. They stated that his father had left an inheritance for him, and the letter contained a one-way plane ticket to Japan. Hayden had long since written off his father, having never met the man, or at the very least, he didn't remember having ever met the man or coward, rather. He'd left his mom to figure out how to care for him, and in the end, his mother had got wrapped up in some bad stuff and was killed before his eyes. He'd never forgive his father or anyone else claiming to be family. No one had stopped to help. No one. If anything, he was half temped to kill the man. He wouldn't, though. He didn't quite like the idea of living behind bars or being confined. Instead, he'd have to settle for giving whoever had drawn him here a piece of his mind. He'd tell them just what they could do with themselves.
Still, even through his hate, Hayden found himself hoping that his father wasn't as terrible as Hayden had believed him to be. It was foolish, though. He wouldn't ever forgive him. It wasn't like the inheritance could bring his mother back or lessen the pain and suffering he'd gone through, but perhaps, at the very least, it'd be the start to a new life. Back home, Hayden had fallen in with that same bad crowd, but unlike his mother, he was careful not to become indebted to them. He'd practically grown up with the gang and in turn learned how to defend himself and how to be safe on the streets. Over time, he even got a reputation that sent others running at the sight of him. When he was younger, he used to lose a lot more fights than he won, but that never deterred him. He always was looking for an excuse to land blows. From that scared little boy to a scrawny teen, Hayden was now a well-built adult. He'd honed his body, and he knew how to use it as a lethal weapon.
With a deep breath, Hayden walked up the steps, his hands clenched and held down by his sides. As he climbed, the people seemed to thin in numbers, and the stairs seemed to pass through some sort of veil. The surrounding forest looked warped a little, but he kept climbing. His eyes grew hazy as his body marched onward, a mist rising and settling on the area. The drumming grew louder and louder until it was all he could hear. Eventually, he reached the top. He was told to stand in a certain spot with a priest or something standing beside him. There appeared to be a smaller, white tori gate up here. People, or things, were seated in the provided chairs. Flower petals were tossed carelessly on the path and at the alter that he now stood. The tempo of the drums changed, and gentle instruments took over, blunting the harsh drum that matched the rhythm of his heart. The flute floated on the air before the strumming of a harp. His eyes were drawn down the aisle, and he felt his stomach plunge to his feet. He had no idea what was going on, and he felt strangely not in control of his own body.
This time of year drew in many tourists., and there were tons of festivals happening around the same time. This shrine was one of the many, but it certainly was eye catching. Hayden didn't believe in silly things like gods or deities, but here he was. He didn't intend to pray at the shrine, though. This was all to get his inheritance. He was supposed to be meeting a family member or things at the top of the steps. Hayden clenched his hands, steadying his nerves. He wouldn't ever consider his father or anyone else as family, but he found himself nervous all the same. What would they think of him?
Months ago, Hayden had received a letter from someone claiming to be family. They stated that his father had left an inheritance for him, and the letter contained a one-way plane ticket to Japan. Hayden had long since written off his father, having never met the man, or at the very least, he didn't remember having ever met the man or coward, rather. He'd left his mom to figure out how to care for him, and in the end, his mother had got wrapped up in some bad stuff and was killed before his eyes. He'd never forgive his father or anyone else claiming to be family. No one had stopped to help. No one. If anything, he was half temped to kill the man. He wouldn't, though. He didn't quite like the idea of living behind bars or being confined. Instead, he'd have to settle for giving whoever had drawn him here a piece of his mind. He'd tell them just what they could do with themselves.
Still, even through his hate, Hayden found himself hoping that his father wasn't as terrible as Hayden had believed him to be. It was foolish, though. He wouldn't ever forgive him. It wasn't like the inheritance could bring his mother back or lessen the pain and suffering he'd gone through, but perhaps, at the very least, it'd be the start to a new life. Back home, Hayden had fallen in with that same bad crowd, but unlike his mother, he was careful not to become indebted to them. He'd practically grown up with the gang and in turn learned how to defend himself and how to be safe on the streets. Over time, he even got a reputation that sent others running at the sight of him. When he was younger, he used to lose a lot more fights than he won, but that never deterred him. He always was looking for an excuse to land blows. From that scared little boy to a scrawny teen, Hayden was now a well-built adult. He'd honed his body, and he knew how to use it as a lethal weapon.
With a deep breath, Hayden walked up the steps, his hands clenched and held down by his sides. As he climbed, the people seemed to thin in numbers, and the stairs seemed to pass through some sort of veil. The surrounding forest looked warped a little, but he kept climbing. His eyes grew hazy as his body marched onward, a mist rising and settling on the area. The drumming grew louder and louder until it was all he could hear. Eventually, he reached the top. He was told to stand in a certain spot with a priest or something standing beside him. There appeared to be a smaller, white tori gate up here. People, or things, were seated in the provided chairs. Flower petals were tossed carelessly on the path and at the alter that he now stood. The tempo of the drums changed, and gentle instruments took over, blunting the harsh drum that matched the rhythm of his heart. The flute floated on the air before the strumming of a harp. His eyes were drawn down the aisle, and he felt his stomach plunge to his feet. He had no idea what was going on, and he felt strangely not in control of his own body.
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