Okay, super-rough, horrifically unedited, and definitely in need of additions, but here's a draft of the first chapter.
See how crazy long it is?
Some notes1. The title and summary are super-tentative. I just needed something to head up the doc (so I could easily identify it on my computer). So I used the little blurb I posted at the top of the RP and the title XXXataktoulaXXX suggested.
A couple of questions1. There's places in here where some authors will have to go in and add narration/descriptions in for their pieces. How do we want to do that? I was thinking the easiest way would be to create a share-able Google-Doc that we could all go into and edit simultaneously - that way everyone can edit their little sections and we could all still see it as a whole. Or we could just have everyone just send in their edit portions here in the thread?
2. We need to decide on what tense we're going for in this chapter? Some of us are using present tense and some are using past tense. Once we figure out which we're going with, I think our proofreaders can just go in and edit that up so it's uniform.
3. Do you think it's too long? Should we break this up into more than one chapter? (We can make a final decision once it's all edited up and we can see how looks in the actual story page.)
The Home
Despondent and destitute, these ousted members of society arrive at The Home to find solace, a cure, a final resting place, or (hopefully) a place to get well. During the day, they attend various wellness treatments (including group and solo therapy with professional health-care experts), and in the night...
Chapter 1
“Okay, Abby. First meeting! Aren't you excited? Is everything ready? Chairs in place? Refreshments set up in the kitchen? Fail-safes up? Yes, yes, yes, yes, and check!” Fretting terribly and fluttering around the library, Abigail double checks that the room is all ready for the home's first group meeting. The mis-matched but comfy arm chairs are pulled into a wide circle that spans most of the room. The library's small tables and accompanying lamps are off to the sides,pushed up against the walls and just under a couple of the heavily draped windows. The light's setting is on high to combat the dark wood and paint that covers most of the floors and wall.
Just outside the doors, the residents gather around Rocio as she leads them down the hall to the library's entrance.
“If everyone can just follow me, please,” she directs with a wave of her hands. Pushing the heavy oak doors open, she spies Abigail fussing over the angle of a chair. “Abby?”
Abigail's head pops up and her hands flutter to her clothes, straightening out the front of her t-shirt and dusting off her jeans. A wide smile fits itself on her face and she beams brightly at the approaching group.
“Hello, everyone. Thank you all for coming here to our first group session. Please, sit.” Standing behind a suede upholstered chair, Abby flashes Rocio a cheerful thumbs up and watches as the other guests chooses their place. Once everyone is seated, she drops in her own chair and clasps her hands together in front of her.
“I'd first like to apologize to anyone who may have had trouble fitting this meeting into your schedule. I know for some of us it's still a bit early, but I promise we've taken all necessary precautions to ensure that those who need it are completely protected from the sun and other daytime annoyances. If this time-frame doesn't work for you, please feel free to let me know and we can try to re-schedule our daily meetings to something that will better suit you. Let's begin with quick introductions. I'll go first. I'm Dr. Abigail Peston (you can just call me Abby) and I'll be leading our first meeting. I'm here to help you talk about some of your issues and hopefully we, as a group, can help each other work through them. Who'd like to go next? How about you, sir?”
“Figures. Pick the oldest guy here to go first. Well, name's Max. Maxwell Alchemy, if you want to get technical about it. Immortal. Witch. Nothing much to say but I got my ancestors screaming inside my head twenty-four seven. Some people say I need to be here to learn to control the voices so I don't go crazy with my magic mojo, but if anything I'm here for the free food.”
Tilting her head, eyes still on Maxwell, Abby whispers privately to Rocio, “ Please do keep an eye on Mr. Maxwell, yes?” Turning back to the group and addressing Maxwell himself, she says, “Very well meeting you, Mr. Max. A great welcome to you and your -uh-
guests. That does sound interesting and hopefully we'll be able to help you here. Just for clarification's sake, you haven't yet gone completely 'crazy' yes?”
With a smirk forming on his lips, he crosses his arms. “Depends on who you ask.” Feeling the room's eyes on him, chuckles, and sharply. “Joking. No. I haven't gone completely mental. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.”
Standing from her seat, slightly startling Abby, Rocio waves and all eyes are upon her. “Hello, I'm Rocio Ryland and I will be serving as a therapist here. If anyone wants to speak in private just let me know, and I can schedule an appointment with you in my office. My door is always open to every tenant here, so please feel free to visit at any time.”
She looks among the small group in the room, and smiles weakly. “And, uh...a little about myself is that I am actually a Reaper, so I know a thing or two about death and grief and anger.” She takes a seat and crosses one leg over the other, leaning back in her seat.
“Thank you, Rocio, for that...exuberant introduction. I know your unique experience and perspective will no doubt be helpful to the group.” Abby looks quickly around the room, patient smile and flat eyes never faltering. “Would anyone else like to say a word or two?”
“Greetings! I am Blyme Brodim, heir to the Brodim bloodline, and divine god! Blyme raises his arms up dramatically, causing sparks to fly from his fingertips. You have no need to fear me, for although my power is strong, I mean none of you harm unless you call upon my wrath.”
Shep looked around to see that no one else was speaking and it was as good as time as any to speak up. “Um, I'm Shep and the doctors call my condition Multiple Personality Disorder but if you wanna be technical about it, I'm basically possessed. Sound crazy? Tell me about it.”
Abby briefly leans away from the flare of lights coming off Blyme and discreetly stamps out a small fire that ignites at the edge of her dress. Quickly unfurrowing her brows and letting out a quite huff of indignation, she returns to her calm facade and speaks again. “Well, it's very nice meeting you both. If you don't mind, Mr. Blyme, I'll have to ask you to keep the sparks to a minimum. I'm afeard there are many things in this room that are very much flammable and we are quite out of the way of the local fire department.”
She turns minutely to Shepard and leans forward to place her hand on his. “And Mr. Shep, dear, we really don't like to use words such as 'crazy' and 'possessed" during group sessions. They do seem a tad...judgmental, don't you think? Yes, of course, so if you could please...”
With a soft pat against his knee, she turns back to the group. “Mr. West? Ms. Hartsong? Would you like to say a word before we dig in?”
Seeing as no one else got up to speak, the soulful vampiress got up from her chair, looking as much bored as she could be, while chewing her gum. She fixed her black dress, pulling the sides down, looking totally uninterested in the beings around her and the place as well. Once she was pleased with the way her short dress hugged her bum she said, ''I am Mariaxielle - Rogue Hartsong, and you can call me Rogue. Only the members of my family tent to call me Mariaxielle though I hate that name, so you better be careful on how you choose to call me.''
She smirked, pushing her long, raven hair behind, letting them fall on her back as the she continued, ''I am the sole daughter of the Hartsong family, and in case you don't know we are all vampires but I am a spell castor as well. I was sent here in order to find a way so I can resist the urges of feeding off other male vampires and using my spells to kill any female vampire that shows up in front of me. It seems like the only vampire I love is... well, me,'' and with that she sat down on her chair again while crossing one leg over the other, still keeping that uninterested face on.
"Ha!" Rollin couldn't help but snort when the vampire mentioned her name, "that's funny, seeing as I am a rogue." He leaned back against the chair, and crossed his muscled arms. He thought this whole thing was stupid, but he had been riding back seat to his wolf for four years straight. He had a temper that wasn't ready to be out of the woods, and now he was unable to remember a single thing when he shifts.
A silent moment passed before he sighed and ran a rough hand through his hair, "Fine. My name is Rollin, I was a wild animal for a while, and when I stole these clothes..." He nodded to covered body with a shrug, "I heard somebody mention something about a 'home' of sorts that can help with whatever I need help with." His lifted his arms, and with a mocking smile he looked around the room, "And here I am."
Rollin...what kind of name was that, the vampire thought, admiring her well-manicured, black nails. It wasn't just the name though, Rollin was a wolf. Wolves and vampires weren't actually friends, not in the past and not now.
Be patient, Rogue. You don't want to end up like your parents, she thought trying hard to suppress the feeling of going into battle mode and creating problems on the first group session.
That wasn't the only reason she was angry though. The day was young and the session was scheduled at a time where she should have been sleeping as peacefully as possible. She didn't really care how the session was going, she was thinking she had to solve her problems on her own. Mariaxielle wasn't one to accept other people's help, so this was going to be hard for her.
As the silence in the room drifted heavily in the air, Maxwell leaned forward in his chair and scanned the room, eyeing the various...people...before him. He couldn't help but let his annoyance at being here pick at him. He lived through a century for this? To be part of self help program with a bunch of souls as broken as him. It was absolutely pathetic, but there was no stopping it. He was already here.
Chuckling to himself in disapproval, he pushed himself back into his chair and crossed his arms over his leather jacket. His eyes landing on Dr. Abigail Peston's. He shook his head as her eyes shifted on him and he smirked.
"So, what's next? You cure us? Make us better people? Do we cry on each others' shoulders and say I'm with you, pal?" He pauses and looks over at Rouge, pointing a slender finger at her and speaking in a mocking tone. "I don't know about you, but Mariaxielle over there has killed before and I'm pretty picky about who's shoulders I cry on."
Rocio stared at Maxwell curiously for a moment. She knew that bitter pill he was swallowing, she'd seen it many times. At first she wanted to remain quiet, but the way he spoke irked her a bit. His personality was definitely a strong one.
"Mr. Alchemy," Rocio said calmly, but firmly. "You're mistaken, there is nothing to cure here. There is nothing wrong with you or anyone else here. We're here simply to know that one, we are not alone, and two we can lead normal lives. I understand that might sound odd and pretentious, but what is the real reason any of you have come here?"
Her eyes slowly drifted among the many different faces in the room, wondering if anyone would answer.
Mariaxielle smiled at Maxwell, before she turned her head towards Rocio. Things were finally getting interesting a bit and she wasn't going to let this chance pass by. ''I think I said it before, but I'm not here because I want to. I was sent here in order to not kill again someone of my kind, and especially from my own clan. Nothing more and nothing less.''
The vampiress pulled her hair up with her hands like she was about to tie them up in a ponytail, but then she let her hair fall freely. Was she the only one who had killed someone? If that was the case, then she had to be the most dangerous and that excited her. It meant that no one would mess with her or bother her under any circumstances. She just had to make sure of it.
''By the way, am I the only one who has ever killed someone?'' Her slanted blue eyes that are like two sapphires had a weird spark in them, and her smiling face as she looked at their faces while waiting for the answers she wanted made her look like the type of witch you hear about in faitytales; old, ugly and riding on a broom.
Thinking over the question, Rollin shrugged, "I've killed fellow wolves, hunters... I might have had someone as a meal too."
The ex Beta rubbed his jaw, he didn't exactly remember if he did eat another being or not. He wouldn't put it past his wolf though, anything to survive when you're a rogue.
Maxwell's eyes widen in exaggeration. He bite his lip, holding back laughter. A smirk playing at the corners. He narrowed his eyes at Rouge and Rollin and raised a brow. "Geez, this is why I have trust issues. You never know who can be a murderer these days."
Shaking his head, he glanced towards Rocio. "How can this help us? How can people like us try and lead normal lives when it's impossible? Look at us, we're nowhere near normal." He stood up out of his seat, so the attention was drawn onto his next words more firmly. "We're one step closer to being locked up in the loony bin. Not to mention the fact that I couldn't possibly relate to a divine God!"
Maxwell points to Blyme who has been silent since his introduction. He shook his head, chuckling silently to himself to calm down his anger as the voices in his head started to shout at him, encourage him to enrage himself more.
"If you wish to relate to me, you need only pray for guidance," Blyme replied, standing up and facing Maxwell, flexing his fingers. "Although I doubt that a puny being such as yourself could relate to the power of a god like myself."
Blyme turned to Abby. "I am insulted that I must spend time in the company of petty murderers and fools such as these."
Maxwell turned his body to Blyme, locking his eyes onto his. He felt his hand clench into fists at his sides and he straightened himself, trying to appear as tall as he could. The voices in his head egging him on. He could feel the flow of his magic go through his body and he felt the sparks of white electricity spill through his hands.
"Well, first things first,” he held up a finger, the electric sparks softly radiating off of it, “I hardly pray, especially to narcissistic Gods like you. Secondly, what is a God doing here? You seem full enough of yourself to manage. What? Not enough people worshiping you anymore?"
"You dare mock me?" Blyme growled. "My followers are plentiful in number! Mortals tremble when they speak my name, and their prayers will add to my power! Do not think you can incur my wrath and survive." He took a step towards Maxwell, raising one arm threateningly and causing sparks flying from his fingers again. "I will not hesitate to smite you down."
Maxwell chuckled, taking another step forward to Blyme, bridging the small gap of personal space they had left. "Why don't you try, Blyme? I'd hate to burst your bubble when I just come rising back from the grave though." He smiled devilishly. "Immortal, remember?"
The werewolf looked between the two 'powerful beings' and shook his head. What was the point in this? He wanted to go and search for the maker of the sandwich he smelt a couple of minutes ago instead. He was hungry and being hungry was never good for the wolf. The chicken sandwich he heard being made also included pickles... His mouth watered. What he could remember from when he lived with his old pack is that pickles were, in his opinion, the second best part of a sandwich. His mind went blank for few seconds when he smelt the lingering scent of chicken, his tongue met the sharp ends of his canines.
His vision sharpened, and he knew that he was no longer alone in his mind. Yellow eyes shifted his view from the arguing immortals to the human who called herself a doctor. A small bang from behind the doors to the room interrupted his wolf's growing hunger for raw meat. He stood up in a rush, the plastic chair tumbling back.
"Okay, this is fun...but I'm hungry."
"Mr. Rollin, you will sit down! And how dare you question my credentials!" Abby stood quickly, arms raised in front of her, fingers spread. "Please, everyone, stop this! There will be no incurring of wraths or smitations here! In fact, no threats at all, Mr. Blyme! And no goading of other residents, Mr. Maxwell! And no one will be trying anything! In fact, if everyone can just remain silent for a moment, that would be wonderful. Yes, of course, that's just what we need, a moment of quiet reflection. Eyes closed, everyone! Deep cleansing breaths! In...and out....in...and out..."
In a harsh whisper to Rocio, Abby says, "What in God's green pasture is that banging sound?" Then turning to the group, flustered and red faced, she yells, "WHICH ONE OF YOU IS MAKING THAT GOD-AWFUL BANGING SOUND!"
The vampiress' blood was boiling already, and just when she was about to snap, the sound of the room's door opening made everyone in the room turn to see who it was, the bloodthirsty vampire turned as well. No one was causing problems anymore and no more annoying noises could be heard.
A beautiful girl pushed the door open along with two bags filled with what seemed to be clothes. ''Oh, hi,'' the girl said, letting her bags on the floor and pushing with her right leg the door to close. ''I'm sorry I'm so late,'' she said and picked up her big, red bags again. She set them at the corner of the room before she walked towards the rest of the group.
''I'm sure you were waiting for me,'' the girl smiled and took a seat while she examined carefully everyone in the room. She pushed the hair that bothered her behind her ears and crossed one leg over the other. She looked so sweet with her long, straight, honey brown, hair and her small, dark blue eyes. ''I'm Marina, I was supposed to arrive tomorrow but- well, things changed.''
"Well, I'll be damned. Finally someone with taste," Maxwell mumbled to himself, over his anger as quickly as it came. The voices in his head retreated back into silence and he took a seat, blinking at the appearance of the woman.
"You missed one heck of a show." Maxwell smiled towards her, intrigued by her sweetness. He leaned himself back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. He nodded towards Blyme, smirking."I almost took on a conceited God, but my interests have finally been peaked. Name's Maxwell Alchemy." He focused his green eyes on hers. “What are you in for, Princess?"
Rocio let out a breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. It was much easier to deal with the supernatural one at a time then shoving so many in one room, especially when there were types like Blyme and Maxwell. She looked at Abby, and clicked her tongue, standing up and clapping her hands to gain everyone's attention.
"Hi Marina, welcome, have a seat," Rocio began with a kind smile, gesturing to an empty chair to her right. "Obviously we all come from different sides, some egos are rather…inflated," Rocio glanced at Maxwell and continued, "Just remember why you came here, and remember everyone has a different motive. But the one single defining reason you all came here to Abby and I, is so we could help. And we can't help if you choose to act like Neanderthals. So let's try to make it through lunch without killing each other or insulting each, hmm? Seem like something you can do?"
"Yes." Rollin growled out through his teeth, he's been controlling himself from launching at the human doctor to quench his hunger. "I want lunch, I want food now," his vision sharpened before going back to normal. The newcomer's presence didn't help him either... especially when she looks so much like Caroline. She was a devious little wolf, and was also his ex-alpha's sister. She was the reason he was in this stupid building they call 'a home'.
He needed to leave, and he was going to leave whether the human liked it or not.
"Be quiet, foolish wolf," Bylme snapped at Rollin. "Your hunger does not give you the right to be rude to our guest." He turned towards Marina and bowed. "Greetings. My name is Blyme Brodim; you may of heard my name spoken in temples." He gestured to the other members of the group. "I do hope this... riffraff do not cause you harm."
''Such a gentleman,'' the young woman said to Blyme whose mind she could perfectly hear in her head, like an honest melody. ''Nice to meet you, I'm Marina Austin.'' They shook hands and she turned to Maxwell in order to reply to his earlier question. She was about to speak, when she realized she couldn't hear anything coming from him. His mind was sealed, with a wall sort of. ''I'm here to change my ways. For the record, I am a mind reader.''
The vampiress smiled at the young girl, she seemed like she was going to be her best friend in here. It wouldn't be so bad for the two of them to be good friends, especially seeing as everyone in the room liked her already. That could work to her advantage in the days to come. ''I am Mariaxielle, but please, do call me Rogue. I prefer that name more than my ancient one,'' the vampire said while getting up from her seat and walking towards the young woman whose sky blue dress went along nicely with her dark blue eyes.
After shaking hands, the vampiress took a seat beside Marina leaving her old seat that was in between men. ''You won't be able to read my mind though, I'm a vampire.'' The vampiress showed her perfectly white teeth along with her fangs, and then she winked playfully.
The young lady was taken by surprise at first before she calmly said, ''Oh, is that why I can't read his mind as well?'' She turned her eyes towards Maxwell and Mariaxielle nodded her head. ''So, when will the first session end?'' The young woman asked, eager to go to her room and meet her roommate if she was supposed to have any in this place.
''I think right now!'' The vampiress said with a serious look on her face as she turned towards the doctors.
"Please," Maxwell stressed, standing up out of his seat. He flicked his leather jacket out, fixing it to a more tidy look. He could hear his motorcycle's keys jiggle in the inside pocket, along with the remains of leftover sunflower seeds from his long drive here. He darted his eyes from Rocio and Abby, impatiently, and started walking backwards towards the exit as he spoke."This has been way too much conversation for me in one century combined and I'm still itching for that free food."
His wolf had yet to turn his attention away from the old dwarf. The dwarf may be old, and he may have magic, but Rollin convinced himself that the dwarf wouldn't have been able to survive years in the wild. Without magic, food, or clothes to help. The well-built male gilded his tongue along his teeth, and continued to stare at the dwarf. He snorted, lifted his chin and turned away when the mind reader spoke. He cared nothing for her, and so he followed Maxwell, passing him and straight to the doors. He didn't need permission to eat.
With a heavy plop, Abby returned to her seat. Leaning forward, pressing the heel of her hands into her eyes, she let out a deep breath to calm herself. "Okay," she sighed, "I guess it couldn't hurt if we took a moment's break." She waved her hands dismissively towards the door leading out of the sitting room. "Refreshments can be found in the kitchen. We've tried to make as much dietary accommodations as possible but if you can't find anything to your liking, please do let Ms. Rocio or myself know."
Turning to face Rocio, Abby quietly asks, "The um...
stuff for Ms. Hartsong...we did put that in the cooler, didn't we?"