Ready tofight.
waleston-town-rp:
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Welcome to Waleston! Prepare to fight for your life.
Waleston is an unknown little town in Washington state, located in the middle of forestry looking out at the unreachable ocean water.
A curse lies on the town. A curse that keeps the town excluded from the rest of the world. Although the town has our modern technology, the town is in fact suspended in time. No one in the town realizes they can’t leave. Any desire to leave is quickly burned out, which is part of the effects of the town.
But, that effect is only upon the townspeople. Visitors, when crossing the barrier of Waleston that keep anyone from leaving, are quickly trapped there with every intention of leaving. No one, and I mean, no one can leave.
If you thought that was the worst of the curse, you are sadly mistaken.
The Visitors (Being the people who come across the town by accident) are haunted by a monster in their dreams each night they sleep when they get to the town. A horrible, rabid creature that attempts to kill them each night. The nightmares are different to each Visitor but it’s all the same either way.
If being haunted by the Monster in their dreams wasn’t bad enough, every Full Moon, the Townspeople turn into rabid creatures who take pleasure in Cannibalism.
With no help from the Towns Fortuneteller, Katheryn Moody, who seems to be the only towns person who knows what’s going on, the Visitors are pretty much on their own.
Can the Visitors figure out the mystery of Katheryn and the Curse of Waleston?
We look forward to Roleplaying with you!
If you have any questions, click here for more information.
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
She glances at her sister briefly before shrugging and finishing her laces. Pouring the dregs of her coffee down the sink she quickly rinses the cup before grabbing her keys from the counter. “Well, time to go then. How long are we going to be there this time?” She questioned, shutting the door behind Amelia and following her down the stairs.
As we walked into the elevator, I just realized, Leslie has my keys. We exited the elevator and I immediately stopped in front of her, causing her to stop abruptly. Putting on my aviators, I lifted my hand in front of her face and said, “Leslie…My keys.”
Sighing Leslie begins to search her bag for Amelia’s keys and eventually pulls them out by the novelty keychain. She casually chucks them at Amelia and resumes walking, extracting her favourite, fingerless gloves from the bag also as she walks. “So, is it in the usual place again?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I said in a mock Southern accent. We walked down a flight of stairs that led to the parking garage. When we located my big, black, outdated truck, we opened the doors and settled in. I started the engine making my old machine roar to life. Before Leslie could make a crack at my truck, I said, “DO. NOT. HATE. ON. THE. TRUCK.” I pointed at her, making the warning amplify through my facial expression.
She held her palms up in mock surrender, feigning complete innocence at her sisters expense “Wasn’t going to.” Immediately she begins to rifle through the C.D’s in the side pocket, glancing over to Amelia as she started the car. “What should we put on?”
As I started to drive us out of the parking garage, I contemplated which CD we should listen to. Then, it hit me. I raised my eyebrow at her and said, “Coldplay, dude.” I adjusted my mirrors and glanced at her. “Mylo Xyloto, please and thank you.”
Slightly surprised Leslie nodded her head in approval and quickly found the disc, putting it in the C.D player. “So how long am I going to have to endure this fair today before I can go back to bed?” She took an apple and shaking her hair out the way, took a bite.
Before answering her insolent question, I pointed at the player and said, “Put on number two: Paradise.” As the music began, I listened along, answering Leslie, “We will be there until I have at least gained two pounds from eating nothing but Churros, fried Oreos, soft serve ice cream, and them big ass cinnamon pretzels.” I giggled at my use of improper grammar and sang along to Coldplay, “Dream of Para-Para-Paradise.“
Unable to suppress the entirety of her grin, a little bit showed on Leslie’s face as her sister joined in with the music. Quickly however, it was wiped away and she retorted. “If that’s the case, I’ll force feed you the second we get there and then drag you back to the car myself.” She began to shift in her seat and tug at the belt to get more comfortable. “Wake me up when we get there.” She yawned and nestled her head in her arms against the window.
I rolled my eyes at my sleepy older sister. I smirked as she cuddled into herself like a kid. I continued to sing along to Coldplay as I drove toward the enticing flow which the fair brought about. Before I even knew it, we were here. I found an empty parking space in the gravely area they held for Fair-goers. This was my favorite thing to do…I turned toward Miss Sleepy Leslie who seemed to roar from her deep snoring. I got really close to her and managed to unbuckle her seat belt and open her door without waking her. Then, I slowly brought myself back to the wheel and slammed on the horn like it was nobody’s business. “LESLIE! WE. ARE. HERE.” The truck’s horn blared with each word.
“Amelia!” Leslie spoke in a slow, warning voice as she sat herself up properly in her seat. “I’m giving you five seconds to run. If I were you, I’d make the most of it considering how much faster I am.” She growled at her younger sister as she clambered from the car. “ONE!” She bellowed and took a small step towards her. Nothing like chasing a younger sister around a full parking lot to wake you up. “TWO!”
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
She glances at her sister briefly before shrugging and finishing her laces. Pouring the dregs of her coffee down the sink she quickly rinses the cup before grabbing her keys from the counter. “Well, time to go then. How long are we going to be there this time?” She questioned, shutting the door behind Amelia and following her down the stairs.
As we walked into the elevator, I just realized, Leslie has my keys. We exited the elevator and I immediately stopped in front of her, causing her to stop abruptly. Putting on my aviators, I lifted my hand in front of her face and said, “Leslie…My keys.”
Sighing Leslie begins to search her bag for Amelia’s keys and eventually pulls them out by the novelty keychain. She casually chucks them at Amelia and resumes walking, extracting her favourite, fingerless gloves from the bag also as she walks. “So, is it in the usual place again?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I said in a mock Southern accent. We walked down a flight of stairs that led to the parking garage. When we located my big, black, outdated truck, we opened the doors and settled in. I started the engine making my old machine roar to life. Before Leslie could make a crack at my truck, I said, “DO. NOT. HATE. ON. THE. TRUCK.” I pointed at her, making the warning amplify through my facial expression.
She held her palms up in mock surrender, feigning complete innocence at her sisters expense “Wasn’t going to.” Immediately she begins to rifle through the C.D’s in the side pocket, glancing over to Amelia as she started the car. “What should we put on?”
As I started to drive us out of the parking garage, I contemplated which CD we should listen to. Then, it hit me. I raised my eyebrow at her and said, “Coldplay, dude.” I adjusted my mirrors and glanced at her. “Mylo Xyloto, please and thank you.”
Slightly surprised Leslie nodded her head in approval and quickly found the disc, putting it in the C.D player. “So how long am I going to have to endure this fair today before I can go back to bed?” She took an apple and shaking her hair out the way, took a bite.
Before answering her insolent question, I pointed at the player and said, “Put on number two: Paradise.” As the music began, I listened along, answering Leslie, “We will be there until I have at least gained two pounds from eating nothing but Churros, fried Oreos, soft serve ice cream, and them big ass cinnamon pretzels.” I giggled at my use of improper grammar and sang along to Coldplay, “Dream of Para-Para-Paradise.“
Unable to suppress the entirety of her grin, a little bit showed on Leslie’s face as her sister joined in with the music. Quickly however, it was wiped away and she retorted. “If that’s the case, I’ll force feed you the second we get there and then drag you back to the car myself.” She began to shift in her seat and tug at the belt to get more comfortable. “Wake me up when we get there.” She yawned and nestled her head in her arms against the window.
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
She glances at her sister briefly before shrugging and finishing her laces. Pouring the dregs of her coffee down the sink she quickly rinses the cup before grabbing her keys from the counter. “Well, time to go then. How long are we going to be there this time?” She questioned, shutting the door behind Amelia and following her down the stairs.
As we walked into the elevator, I just realized, Leslie has my keys. We exited the elevator and I immediately stopped in front of her, causing her to stop abruptly. Putting on my aviators, I lifted my hand in front of her face and said, “Leslie…My keys.”
Sighing Leslie begins to search her bag for Amelia’s keys and eventually pulls them out by the novelty keychain. She casually chucks them at Amelia and resumes walking, extracting her favourite, fingerless gloves from the bag also as she walks. “So, is it in the usual place again?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I said in a mock Southern accent. We walked down a flight of stairs that led to the parking garage. When we located my big, black, outdated truck, we opened the doors and settled in. I started the engine making my old machine roar to life. Before Leslie could make a crack at my truck, I said, “DO. NOT. HATE. ON. THE. TRUCK.” I pointed at her, making the warning amplify through my facial expression.
She held her palms up in mock surrender, feigning complete innocence at her sisters expense “Wasn’t going to.” Immediately she begins to rifle through the C.D’s in the side pocket, glancing over to Amelia as she started the car. “What should we put on?”
As I started to drive us out of the parking garage, I contemplated which CD we should listen to. Then, it hit me. I raised my eyebrow at her and said, “Coldplay, dude.” I adjusted my mirrors and glanced at her. “Mylo Xyloto, please and thank you.”
Slightly surprised Leslie nodded her head in approval and quickly found the disc, putting it in the C.D player. “So how long am I going to have to endure this fair today before I can go back to bed?” She took an apple and shaking her hair out the way, took a bite.
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
She glances at her sister briefly before shrugging and finishing her laces. Pouring the dregs of her coffee down the sink she quickly rinses the cup before grabbing her keys from the counter. “Well, time to go then. How long are we going to be there this time?” She questioned, shutting the door behind Amelia and following her down the stairs.
As we walked into the elevator, I just realized, Leslie has my keys. We exited the elevator and I immediately stopped in front of her, causing her to stop abruptly. Putting on my aviators, I lifted my hand in front of her face and said, “Leslie…My keys.”
Sighing Leslie begins to search her bag for Amelia’s keys and eventually pulls them out by the novelty keychain. She casually chucks them at Amelia and resumes walking, extracting her favourite, fingerless gloves from the bag also as she walks. “So, is it in the usual place again?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I said in a mock Southern accent. We walked down a flight of stairs that led to the parking garage. When we located my big, black, outdated truck, we opened the doors and settled in. I started the engine making my old machine roar to life. Before Leslie could make a crack at my truck, I said, “DO. NOT. HATE. ON. THE. TRUCK.” I pointed at her, making the warning amplify through my facial expression.
She held her palms up in mock surrender, feigning complete innocence at her sisters expense “Wasn’t going to.” Immediately she begins to rifle through the C.D’s in the side pocket, glancing over to Amelia as she started the car. “What should we put on?”
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
She glances at her sister briefly before shrugging and finishing her laces. Pouring the dregs of her coffee down the sink she quickly rinses the cup before grabbing her keys from the counter. “Well, time to go then. How long are we going to be there this time?” She questioned, shutting the door behind Amelia and following her down the stairs.
As we walked into the elevator, I just realized, Leslie has my keys. We exited the elevator and I immediately stopped in front of her, causing her to stop abruptly. Putting on my aviators, I lifted my hand in front of her face and said, “Leslie…My keys.”
Sighing Leslie begins to search her bag for Amelia’s keys and eventually pulls them out by the novelty keychain. She casually chucks them at Amelia and resumes walking, extracting her favourite, fingerless gloves from the bag also as she walks. “So, is it in the usual place again?”
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
As I thought of a way to answer her question, I hoped to derail the conversation by, again, disregarding the question. “Yes, I will not deny, I have fancy clothing. I like all my clothes. But, I do still wear most of the your hand-me-downs because they actually fit right.” I sat at the counter on the spinning chair of death. It took all my willpower not to spin till I puked. “I guess I splurge on clothing because I had to live in your hand-me-downs! You were always getting new clothes! Now, I have money to pay for my own.” Placing my hand lightly on my forehead, I said, dramatically, my voice deepening in tone, “It is my weakness.”
Keeping her back to her sister as she pours her cup of coffee Leslie couldn’t help but smirk to herself, realising just how much she had influenced her little sister. “‘Cause I was older. But you’re still dodging my question…” She takes a moment to watch Amelia before pressing on “Are you going to meet a guy there or something?” She hoped the pressure would finally get her the answer of why she was so rudely dragged from bed.
Fiddling with my hands underneath the counter top, I shifted in my seat. “No, not a guy, it’s just…” I figured there was no use to lie to her. “It’s because, we’ve gone every year…Dad started the tradition and, with him how he is, I wanted to keep that legacy going.” I gave her a half smile as I looked at her. “We had some good times at the fair with Dad. Like, remember when I threw up on that lady after the Tilt-a-Whirl? She was so pissed off! I remember her yelling, ‘I’m going to fucking murder you!’ And Dad threw lemonade in her face! Remember that?”
Leslie blinked in surprise, having trouble remembering the previous years visit. “Well you should have just said so. Jeez Amelia, it’s me, not mom.” She rolls her eyes at her sister and goes to the fridge to search for an apple to take out with them, knowing she would get hungry later. “Don’t suppose you’d grab my red converse for me would you?” she asks while rifling through the huge draw of fruit in the bottom of the fridge. “It would get us out of the house faster.”
I watched as she hid her face while rummaging through the fridge. “Yeah, sure.” I said, breaking out of the rush of thoughts crossing my mind. I jumped off the chair and grabbed her red Converse from her collections of beaten up and worn down shoes. “Well, you don’t really remember previous years since you were drunk in most of them.” I called to her. I found myself staring at the mess of broken shoes. “Leslie,” I called to her, looking at the shoes. “Do you need some new shoes?” I already knew she needed them.
Finally finding the Granny Smiths at the bottom she pulled out two and washed them, casually commenting “Nope, I like my shoes worn down. Much more comfy.” She grabs a paper towel and dries the apples off, putting one into her bag when done and chucking the other to Amelia, swiping the converse from the floor where they were dropped in front of her. “Am I really drunk that much?” She queried as she inserted one foot into the shoe and began to tie the laces.
I caught the flying apple and bounced in my palm. Scoffing, I looked at her like:
and said, my voice wavering deeply, “You’re a fucking alcoholic!”
She glances at her sister briefly before shrugging and finishing her laces. Pouring the dregs of her coffee down the sink she quickly rinses the cup before grabbing her keys from the counter. “Well, time to go then. How long are we going to be there this time?” She questioned, shutting the door behind Amelia and following her down the stairs.
Well, I guess I have to agree with you there. Amelia is a bit full of herself and overconfident. I'd hate living with her...What a bitch.
◥
Anonymous
Hey! Only I get to insult my sister. *Glares at anon*
Now, is that any way to treat an anonymous guest? I mean, you have no idea who I am. I could be the bloody Queen and you would've just insulted her.
◥
Anonymous
Do I look like I care? I’m an American. She can’t touch me. *Pauses* Can she? *Shrugs* Whatever. Prison would be a nice break from Amelia.
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
As I thought of a way to answer her question, I hoped to derail the conversation by, again, disregarding the question. “Yes, I will not deny, I have fancy clothing. I like all my clothes. But, I do still wear most of the your hand-me-downs because they actually fit right.” I sat at the counter on the spinning chair of death. It took all my willpower not to spin till I puked. “I guess I splurge on clothing because I had to live in your hand-me-downs! You were always getting new clothes! Now, I have money to pay for my own.” Placing my hand lightly on my forehead, I said, dramatically, my voice deepening in tone, “It is my weakness.”
Keeping her back to her sister as she pours her cup of coffee Leslie couldn’t help but smirk to herself, realising just how much she had influenced her little sister. “‘Cause I was older. But you’re still dodging my question…” She takes a moment to watch Amelia before pressing on “Are you going to meet a guy there or something?” She hoped the pressure would finally get her the answer of why she was so rudely dragged from bed.
Fiddling with my hands underneath the counter top, I shifted in my seat. “No, not a guy, it’s just…” I figured there was no use to lie to her. “It’s because, we’ve gone every year…Dad started the tradition and, with him how he is, I wanted to keep that legacy going.” I gave her a half smile as I looked at her. “We had some good times at the fair with Dad. Like, remember when I threw up on that lady after the Tilt-a-Whirl? She was so pissed off! I remember her yelling, ‘I’m going to fucking murder you!’ And Dad threw lemonade in her face! Remember that?”
Leslie blinked in surprise, having trouble remembering the previous years visit. “Well you should have just said so. Jeez Amelia, it’s me, not mom.” She rolls her eyes at her sister and goes to the fridge to search for an apple to take out with them, knowing she would get hungry later. “Don’t suppose you’d grab my red converse for me would you?” she asks while rifling through the huge draw of fruit in the bottom of the fridge. “It would get us out of the house faster.”
I watched as she hid her face while rummaging through the fridge. “Yeah, sure.” I said, breaking out of the rush of thoughts crossing my mind. I jumped off the chair and grabbed her red Converse from her collections of beaten up and worn down shoes. “Well, you don’t really remember previous years since you were drunk in most of them.” I called to her. I found myself staring at the mess of broken shoes. “Leslie,” I called to her, looking at the shoes. “Do you need some new shoes?” I already knew she needed them.
Finally finding the Granny Smiths at the bottom she pulled out two and washed them, casually commenting “Nope, I like my shoes worn down. Much more comfy.” She grabs a paper towel and dries the apples off, putting one into her bag when done and chucking the other to Amelia, swiping the converse from the floor where they were dropped in front of her. “Am I really drunk that much?” She queried as she inserted one foot into the shoe and began to tie the laces.
ameliapiper:
lesliequinn:
ameliapiper:
As I thought of a way to answer her question, I hoped to derail the conversation by, again, disregarding the question. “Yes, I will not deny, I have fancy clothing. I like all my clothes. But, I do still wear most of the your hand-me-downs because they actually fit right.” I sat at the counter on the spinning chair of death. It took all my willpower not to spin till I puked. “I guess I splurge on clothing because I had to live in your hand-me-downs! You were always getting new clothes! Now, I have money to pay for my own.” Placing my hand lightly on my forehead, I said, dramatically, my voice deepening in tone, “It is my weakness.”
Keeping her back to her sister as she pours her cup of coffee Leslie couldn’t help but smirk to herself, realising just how much she had influenced her little sister. “‘Cause I was older. But you’re still dodging my question…” She takes a moment to watch Amelia before pressing on “Are you going to meet a guy there or something?” She hoped the pressure would finally get her the answer of why she was so rudely dragged from bed.
Fiddling with my hands underneath the counter top, I shifted in my seat. “No, not a guy, it’s just…” I figured there was no use to lie to her. “It’s because, we’ve gone every year…Dad started the tradition and, with him how he is, I wanted to keep that legacy going.” I gave her a half smile as I looked at her. “We had some good times at the fair with Dad. Like, remember when I threw up on that lady after the Tilt-a-Whirl? She was so pissed off! I remember her yelling, ‘I’m going to fucking murder you!’ And Dad threw lemonade in her face! Remember that?”
Leslie blinked in surprise, having trouble remembering the previous years visit. “Well you should have just said so. Jeez Amelia, it’s me, not mom.” She rolls her eyes at her sister and goes to the fridge to search for an apple to take out with them, knowing she would get hungry later. “Don’t suppose you’d grab my red converse for me would you?” she asks while rifling through the huge draw of fruit in the bottom of the fridge. “It would get us out of the house faster.”
No no! I'm good. I'm better than good...I don't like coffee much anyway.
◥
Anonymous
Then I suggest you get outta here before I’m tempted to show you.
So, how did that coffee work out for ya?
◥
Anonymous
*Glares at anon* Wanna find out? *Threateningly holds up the pot*
ameliapiper:
As I thought of a way to answer her question, I hoped to derail the conversation by, again, disregarding the question. “Yes, I will not deny, I have fancy clothing. I like all my clothes. But, I do still wear most of the your hand-me-downs because they actually fit right.” I sat at the counter on the spinning chair of death. It took all my willpower not to spin till I puked. “I guess I splurge on clothing because I had to live in your hand-me-downs! You were always getting new clothes! Now, I have money to pay for my own.” Placing my hand lightly on my forehead, I said, dramatically, my voice deepening in tone, “It is my weakness.”
Keeping her back to her sister as she pours her cup of coffee Leslie couldn’t help but smirk to herself, realising just how much she had influenced her little sister. “‘Cause I was older. But you’re still dodging my question…” She takes a moment to watch Amelia before pressing on “Are you going to meet a guy there or something?” She hoped the pressure would finally get her the answer of why she was so rudely dragged from bed.
If you like roleplaying and interesting plots,
avrilfreemanpwns:
JOIN THE FLIPPING WALESTON TOWN RP!
SWEET SEMEN OF BABY JESUS, BITCHES LOVE WALESTON!
But seriously guys, we are lonely.
JOIN US!
http://waleston-town-rp.tumblr.com
