*It occurred to me that the bottom middle panel could be mistaken for Christoph dialogue. It is not. It is a ghost. hahahha.
Alright, DA is just not gonna let me post this Rp log. XD It's too long. (It is so bizarre to me that written submissions are so limited, but I guess I could see that being a window for spam, so whatever).
What we have here is Jacky on a train, getting dadded by the vampire in the next cabin over. Jacky and Thema's character Christoph went on a little haunted adventure. These are just sketches and aren't meant to be read together. The sketches are just scattered thoughts.
My favorite part was when they sent texts even though they could have heard each other through the wall. I thought that was cute. So that's the snippet I chose to post, starting at a junction right after she pissed him off and ran into the bathroom because obviously he won't go in there.
If you don't know what this is. It's a roleplay log, which is a kind of collaborative writing. It's messy by nature and not meant to read like a book. The roleplay was private and has concluded. I'm just posting a portion of it to give the sketches above some context.This is not a personal Rp ad, please don't send me notes pawin' for Rp.
In the end, she was right.
He got as far as right up to the door before he realized what it was and WHERE she was. The bathroom. That was one way to keep THIS vampire out.
He stalled out at the doorframe, uttering a breathless growl. For a while he stayed there, hovering at the door, looming until his puddle spread so far that it leaked through gap, spreading onto the tile beneath.
After a few minutes he peeled himself off of the door and started pacing- restlessly pacing, up and down, back and forth, never far from the door, but with the same tense energy as a lion prowling a cage. There was a half hour of that before he finally, finally calmed down enough to come stand by it again.
He lifted a finger. He opened his mouth and inhaled deeply, jaw set and eyebrows pinched.
He closed his mouth, and lowered the finger.
"You have five hours until midnight. I'd suggest you get your things and head back to your room." His words were polite, but his tone was far from civil. He turned his back on the door and marched heavily back toward his own room.
It would have taken a very sharp set of ears to catch what he muttered on his way.
"At least she's in one piece."
Little shit was implied. She'd just been elevated to the ranks of Pukka, whatever her actual race was.
There was a puddle of water gathered up under the door like evidence of a haunting. He had been out there. She'd never gotten a solid yes or no on that. She'd heard whispers of movement while she waited, but it was never enough. Just the right amount to give her goosebumps and instill doubt.
She must have jumped three feet when he finally spoke.
The urge to rebel was intolerable, but she bit her bottom lip where she normally would have quipped back.
Even if she hadn't still been a little afraid of him, she would have thought twice. She was twenty one years old, old enough to buy a beer (so she kept telling herself), and his dad voice made her feel small. There probably wouldn't be anymore excursions on the roof.
Other little annoyances though... that remained to be seen.
"Guess the adventure's not over." She muttered back, as lowly and softly as she could, lest he hear it, then shuffled away to gather up the only belonging she had that wasn't in her room. The cat. He was in the same spot, staring at the same stain on the roof. Intelligence had not become him in their absence.
She thought about moving back to her original cabin, but the prospect of facing midnight on the train alone was too much. He was scary, but not as scary as getting kidnapped by faeries or eaten by spectres. In fact, he'd never laid a hand on her in anger, and that got him some major points.
Noooooot quite enough to leave her door unlocked.
Guess the adventure's not over.
He had to bite his tongue and count to ten not to respond. Kid wanted the last word. Let her have it. Save some face after he'd zombie-crawled over the roof at her. Besides. She was right. He'd backed down on at least one of his threats. He wasn't trying to stop the train in the middle of Mississippi to take her home.
No army would be called tonight.
He kept his mouth shut and went back to claim his tablet, and then took himself to his own room- deliberately and quietly shutting the door behind her. The monster was back in his cave, and she was safe to grab what she needed for the next little while. He wouldn't come storming out and bite her.
He gave her two hours before he emerged and went to the next car over, coming back with two bowls of very fragrant, meaty stew. Hot, and more beef than anything else. He left one at either end of their car, beside each door. It wouldn't be piping in three hours, but he doubted the spirits would mind too much.
It was the meat they were after anyway.
Assuming she was safely locked away in her own room, he stopped beside her door to leave a bowl of milk and bread. Offerings to a different kind of spirit. Finally, with that done, he went back to his room and settled in.
Three hours until midnight, he lit a fat candle in and put it on the corner beside his bed.
After a little bit of thought, he picked up his phone and eyeballed the 'recent calls' in his history. New number. Not one he recognized. Hazarding a guess, he plugged it into his text function and sent a quick message. '
Do you have a flashlight? The lights may go out.'
Each time he passed her door, she tensed and watched his shadow slip from left to right, and right to left again. There weren't very many times. He was on a mission and wasn't dilly dallying, he wasn't going to consult the peanut gallery for feedback, either.
She'd take that blessing.
She was on her back in bed massaging the cat's ears when he set the bowl by her door. Cripper noticed before she did. He went right to it and levered a paw out readily. She lifted her head to watch, but trusted the Sheriff was smart enough to put it where a very food driven cat couldn't reach it.
"Man," She watched him work. "You're a late bloomer, bud. If I were you I wouldn't dip a toe in that. You might lose it."
She'd always wondered about strays. Some of them seemed really, really smart. Like they held the world in their palm. The others, eh.
Siamese cats existed. That was a thing.
Her phone lit up. She was sure it was going to be Herman, come to nag her too. Her heart fluttered in a bad way when she realized it wasn't, but relaxed quickly. A flashlight...? She looked around her room. There was usually one in her bag but not anymore. She'd lost it to a Game Central train.
'I have a cat.'
She typed back, matter of factly. She'd used cats as flashlights before. Once literally! The rest of the time it was just a matter of watching them. If the cat wasn't worried, then neither was she.
His phone blooped.
'I have a cat.'
Yes. Wonderful. That will help you in a blackout. At least it was a full moon.
'I have two cats.'
'Where'd you get the second one?' He tapped back, lowering himself into the chair beside the door. It was far from showtime, but the air was already beginning to take on a distinct chill. Soon he'd be able to see his own breath.
'Do you have enough blankets?' His finger lift a warm print on a rapidly cooling screen.
The rain was as persistent as it had been all day. It drummed patiently on the rooftop, waiting for someone to open a window and let it in. Shafts of moonlight fell between the clouds, illuminating the cabin in shades of blue so pale they were almost white. A vast improvement on yesterday's waxy yellow-red.
'Don't forget to lock the door. It's on the inside of the handle. Looks like a toggle. Flip it to the right, toward the wall. There's a drop-down clasp at the top, hidden inside the doorframe. If you stand up on your tip-toes you should be able to reach it.'
It was almost go-time. She'd know soon if he had been making up all those horror-stories about knocking and voices.
From the set up, it was beginning to sound like he hadn't been. Mostly.
Jacky frowned at her phone and started to type. I have ONE fat cat, how did you not get tha- She stopped and hovered over the letters. You know what, fine. Fine. Two cats.
'He's more like half a cat. Just the liver and some spare parts.'
There was a lot of typing going on between messages, far more than what she sent. Her silence may not have been as voluntary as she wanted everyone to think.
'My poncho is warm.'
That was such a dad question. Her poncho was still damp on one side, and given the chance it would probably make her bed miserably humid, but as long as her blanket was between her and it she'd be fine. Cats took keeping water out seriously.
She leaned against the wall, letting her tail curl around an ankle and read his message twice. He was giving her a step by step on how to lock a door. Jacky blinked at it quietly. Maybe some vampire myths were true. Maybe he had a compulsion and his just happened to be getting really particular about stupid every day things.
She still put the phone down to lock it as told. It seemed beligerence couldn't compete with ghosts, and she really, really didn't want him to get up and do it for her.
She was 100% sure he would.
Getting all the way up to nail ends of her toes, she latched the top first. Then relaxed her legs and scrutinized the handle. It had already been locked to keep the big bad bear at bay should he decide he wasn't done with their argument after all- but that was over an hour ago, and she'd done it in a hurry.
She looked at it, trying to remember if he'd said left or right, and flipped it left.
Ready to get her feet out of the air, her mattress whined when she lept back onto it. The cat had given up on the bowl at the first sign of chill. He'd starve before he let his tooties get cold. She didn't imagine he'd been in a situation where he had to choose very many times.
Have you ever heard of-
Who do I ask if-
Is there a place I can-
I don't know what I am-
She burned a hole through the backspace key and flipped the phone facedown in her lap, listening to the rain instead. The colder the cabins got, the more it felt like it should have been snowing out there. Eventually, the tic tacing picked back up.
'What were you listening to?'
'Did the other guy eat him?'
Unkind, Christoph. Unkind. He typed it with a smile though. The little bugger was actually starting to grow on him. Poor stupid baby didn't know what he'd done. Gone and ate someone's mum, and not smart enough to realize it.
He wondered if the mom was as bossy as the daughter.
Her feet tip-tapped across the carpet. Mostly silent- between her shoes and the flooring he could barely make it out. Her heartbeat was still loud and quick, however. Easy for him to make out. It was almost perpetually fast, like she was teetering on the edge of a panic attack every minute of every day.
Or maybe it was just him.
He scratched his chest and waited patiently for her to return to her phone. It was a few seconds, after the satisfying click of two door locks being adjusted. Then the tapping began.
Tappa tappa tappa tappa-- taptaptaptaptap-- tappa tappa-- taptaptaptap.
His eyebrows rose a little. What was she doing over there? It sounded like she was writing a saga!
What were you listening to? ... That was it? Just five little words for all that tapping? Had she been texting someone else? He hadn't heard the message-sent notification, but maybe she'd silenced it.
"Haunted Castles. Surprisingly accurate research. Very dry."
The outside of the train was beginning to look warm and dry, comparatively. Fog was creeping in beneath the doorframe. His window was attempting to ice. He reached over and tugged the blanket off the bed, draping it over his knees while he waited. There was whispering out there, now. Indistinct murmuring that seemed to come from nowhere in particularly. From behind a wall that wasn't there. The voices had no obvious gender or meaning, as of yet, and seemed to rise just when he'd started to convince himself that he'd been imagining the last bought.
'He lost interest in food as soon as it got cold. He thinks he's a bear.'
Haunted houses. She guessed if it was a choice between a scary story podcast and college essays, he was the kind of guy who'd listen to the latter.
She leaned over the bed to look at her window. The curtain was wide open. Some part of her hoped there would be something there during the night, but the percentage that left it open was just too lazy to get up and do something about it.
Jacky reached for her poncho and pulled it over her legs. The cabin blanket felt napkin thin and it was getting the kind of cold that she imagined of dark, wet coffins. Her poncho outclassed it and thensome, it was made for this kind of weather, and it had done her a lot of favors on the road.
There wasn't any furious tapping this time. Whoever she'd been talking to, or whatever she'd been thinking, it had dropped off the face of the planet.
Okay, that was way too flattering, and she almost didn't send it. But she did. With a follow up.
'Truck driver professor.'
'Good thing, too, otherwise he might not have left the liver.'
His typing was getting distracted, now. He could hear the faint sound of footsteps wandering up and down the hallway. Doors were opening and shutting where there were no doors to shut, and the air was like a thin layer of ice that hung over everything. Frost flowers tried to crawl up the wall paper, painting the brown damask with dark patterns.
'No. I don't have the patience or disposition to teach anything, much less driving.'
Something ran down the hall. Fast enough that the doors rattled in it's passing. He sat up in his chair for a few minutes, listening intently, and then settled back down into his chair. One hour til' midnight. '
I'm a consultant. Cost-benefits.'
Let her chew on that for a while. He was interested in seeing what her little mind made of THAT.
Someone was giggling out there now. And not in the happy, friendly way. Not particularly malevolent, either. It was a cross between a drunkard's giggle and the airy, distant sort of sound someone made when they'd finally broken.
'I don't think he leaves anything. I think that's his problem.'
Her battery was creeping down hill. Not as fast as she thought it would, but another thirty minutes and it would be done. She slid the brightness bar all the way to the left to slow it down, and then wasted that borrowed time setting his nickname in her contacts list.
Huh huh huh.
It held its amusement, even after the reality of swapping numbers with her stalker. Who she finally realized now had hers.
Well, shit. Wasn't that just dandy? Wasn't that just-
A thud in the hallway interrupted her, followed my machine gun fire footsteps. She sat up against the wall and held her breath, listening. Someone out there giggled.
If she'd had any doubt, it was all gone now.
I'm a consultant. Cost-benefits.
The wall was quiet. No typing. She was speechless. After taking some time to digest it, she decided it fit.
'Of course you are.' She sent back, like there wasn't a world where he could be anything else. She'd known there was a stick up his butt but she hadn't thought it was jammed up there that far. 'You are impressively boring.'
Jacky slid off her bed, taking the phone and blanket with her and guided the suitcase she'd found quietly up to the door. It would save her from sitting on the frigid floor. The pillow would have been better, but the cat was smothering it. She put her ear to it and listened.
What was the point in being there if she wasn't going to experience it?