This is innitially a continuation from a previous RP that was started in a different thread. It went well, so we decided to make a new thread just for it, beginning in what we call "Season 2." Anyone is welcome to join. The story is set in the cities of Identity and the theme seems to have a bit of a Gotham feel to it. Crime, justice, and a dash of twisted insanity. A world where there are no battle wizards astride dragons, or fairies weaving flower garlands for elves. There are, however, sinister science experiments, genetic mutations, dark rituals and cryptic things that you thought only existed in nightmares. The world is what you make it, and dark minds, I find, tend to be a bit more fun. So welcome all, to Dark City. RULES: 1. PLEASE try to type as clearly as possible. Relax, take your time, it will yield less typos. Avoid shorthand and proofread your post before submitting. 2. No god-moding. You can not control other people's characters (unless previously arranged), and you are not immune to damage. 3. We all have lives. As such, you will be given 3 days to post a reaction. After that, you will be skipped. The show must go on. 4. NO BULLYING. We simply will not have it. If you're being a dick, you will be killed off in the story and blocked from the thread. If we think of more necessary rules, we will update this accordingly. Participants of Season 1: Because this is its own thread and new people may be joining, please post a brief recap of your character's events in the previous chapter. Thank you and enjoy! *fires a gun in the air*

((There aren't enough English words to describe the amount of bull$#!t going on in my life right now. I'm really sorry I'm dragging such ass. Pray for the safe return of my mental status.))

((Holy shit am I late. Gotta get my brain in gear and figure out where I'm at. Eeeehhhh okay here.)) Amanda Shepard stares cold-eyed into her own bathroom mirror. Long black hair. . . It used to be brown. . . That doesn't even make sense. If my skin was bleached white, Why in hell is my hair now black? Don't get me started on my previously grey eyes now being bright fucking green. Bunch of bullshit. She sighs as the racing thoughts begin to result in a headache. Lifting a hand, she uses the back of a wrist to wipe a smear of blood from her cheek. Who's blood? Hard to say. Mother. . . Father. . . Brother. . . That jerk gardener who happened to walk in at the wrong time? She looks back down at the sink. One hand gripping the ledge as blood runs down into the drain. The other hand gripping a crumpled file. The adoption papers. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. Hissing, acid tears drip down her cheeks, burning holes in the paper folder. What to do. . . What to do now. . . Oh, what to do. . . She taps her floody fingers on the porcelain in thought. [Darkness] Striking a match, she glares at the tiny flame before boredly flicking it into a pool of gasoline in the front driveway of her high class manor home. A fire begins with a flare and rips its way toward the house, up the large porch steps and in through the open double doors. At first, silence. . . Then, from within the house is an explosion. Then a second. Then a third, which blows out windows and sends flames billowing into the air. She smirks slightly and sets the adoption papers down in the flaming pool that received the match. And in movie explosion fashion, she walks calmly away from the inferno raging behind her. Amanda Shepard burns to death in that house. . . . . . I've learned my real name. Learned the story of my real family. And destroyed the evidence.

((Bonus double post to make up for my tardiness.)) "This is just unheard of" The hospital administrator shakes her head incredulously. "Scared the hell out of me." The nurse gives a nervous chuckle, while carefully peeling back Amanda's bandages. "Vitals are all strong as any healthy, fully functioning person. We're very sorry about the loss of your eyes, but you're incredibly lucky to be alive, Miss Shepard. Your family had given up hope." "They aren't my family." Amanda says in an emotionless, monotone voice. The two women glance uneasily at each other. "What. . . Makes you say that, honey?" The administrator tilts her head with concern. The nurse continues peeling back bandages, staring in awe at the paper white skin being revealed. No burns at all. "I heard them. I heard every word." Her voice takes on an icy edge. "I'm adopted." The administrator widens her eyes slightly. "I see. . . We weren't sure if you could hear anything in your coma, but-" "Everything makes sense now." Amanda cuts her off. "I never belonged. I was always different. They always hated me." "Oh, sweetheart, I'm sure it's not-" "They're not my family." Amanda repeats, firmly and coldy. "We're about to reveal your face. . ." The nurse interjects quietly, pulling bandages off from around Amanda's head. Darkness slowly lightens to grey, then beige as light begins to show through the thinning bandages. "They didn't care about me. My father wanted a cash cow for his company, and my mother wanted a pretty womb for her grandchildren. And my brother. . ." She slowly clenches a fist. "Hun, I'm sure they all love you very much. Pulling the plug must have been very difficult for them, I promise." The administrator says reassuringly. The sympathetic looking nurse finally pulls back the last bandage over Amanda's eyes and lifts a brow slightly. "Oh, wow. Your skin is so pale, but there are no burns at all. If I didn't know any better, I could almost believe you even had ey-" She suddenly gasps loudly and lunges back as Amanda opens her eyelids. Bright, acid green irises stare back at the two women, who's jaws are on the floor. "I'm going home." Amanda says with a hardened heart. "I need to say hello to my loving family."

((Sorry for delays, guys. Been doing a lot of packing and costume preparation for NDK. But I'm still around!)) A doctor enters the hospital room of Amanda Shepard. "Their decision has been made." He says to the on-duty nurse. "Turn off the machines and call it." The nurse looks stunned. "You can't be serious. Right when she's doing better, you're just going to kill her?" The doctor shoots her a stern look. "She's brain-dead. And it isn't my decision, it's that of the family and they said pull the plug. I'm not about to have a lawsuit on my hands. And do you think I want this entire room quarantined again? Do it now." And he turns to leave. The nurse stands from her chair and points at the comatose Amanda. "But LOOK at her!" Spinning around, the doctor glares at her. "Do you value your job here? I won't tell you again. We need this room for other patients, now do your job. And for God's sake, be careful. I don't need you hospitalized like the last two nurses." And with that, he all but storms out of the room. The nurse glares incredulously after him, then turns to the heart monitor, grumbling bitterly under her breath. "I can't fucking believe this place sometimes. . . If I didn't need this goddamned job, I'd have quit ages ago." She mutters as she sets to work shutting down the monitor. "Stupid, horrible people. Don't even care about saving lives. It's aaallllll about the money." She flips a few switches and turns to remove sensors from Amanda. A weak voice then comes from beneath the bandages. "Hey. . . Before I die. . . Can I get a glass of water?" The nurse shrieks, spins around to run, but promptly faints to the floor with a thud. ". . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Is that a no?"

[Darkness. . . The slow, steady beeping sound. . . Clear voices. . . ] Woman 1: "Why is her skin so pale? It's like, white." Woman 2: "Nevermind why it's so pale, where are all the burns?" Woman 1: "How long's it been like this?" Woman 2: "About a week from what I hear. But she still won't wake up and it's been a month." Woman 1: "That's really weird. . . " Woman 2: "Ugh, I can't find a vein. But I guess you have to practice on the difficult ones too, so aim here, and give it your best." Woman 1: "Okay. . ." *deep breath* A sharp pain in my left inner elbow. . . And there's nothing I can do about it. Woman 2: "Now slowwwly pull back. . ." Woman 1: ". . . . . . Oh wow, I think I got a vein, I can feel it." Woman 2: "First try, Good job." *chuckling* "Now just keep-" Woman 1: *gasps* "Wha-?!" Woman 2: "What the hell is that?!" Woman 1: "Should I keep going?!" Woman 2: "No! It shouldn't be green!" A second pain in the same place. . . Bitches. Woman 1: "I- I've never- S- Seen. . ." Woman 2: "I'll go get the doctor!" *footsteps, then a clatter, loud crash and thud* Woman 1: *gasps* "Are you okay?!" *coughs* Woman 2: *groans* "Doctor. . . Get the. . ." Woman 1: *hard coughing* "Hang- Ugh, hang on!" *more footsteps and another thud* [Distant coughing and muffled voices. . . . . . Silence.]

[Darkness. . . A slow, steady beeping sound. . . Clear voices. . . ] Woman 1: "And when I came in to change her bandages. . . " Woman 2: ". . . . . . What. . . The. . . " Woman 1: "I have no idea. It doesn't make any sense. It's like she was never-" Woman 2: "Hold on." *papers shuffling* "This is definitely the right patient. . . Amanda Shepard, female, aged 28, severe chemical burns. I don't understand. Is this some sort of joke? Woman 1: "No, I've been tending to her for the past three weeks, I swear to god. It's the same girl." Woman 2: "I'm sorry, this is just-" *more papers shuffling* "'Severe fire and chemical burns over 100 percent of the body.' I've been reading this thing for a month, thinking there's no way anyone could possibly survive, and if they did, they'd be horribly disfigured for the rest of their lives. And now you show me this? Something has to be wrong. I'm calling the doctor." *footsteps* Woman 1: "I'm telling you, it's the same girl!" *more footsteps* [Silence . . . ]

Previously, on Dark City: A chemical plant blew the fuck up. Amanda Shepard, aged 28 had been in the building at the time because her father owned it and was trying to push a floor job on her. When it blew up, she was coated in flames and subsequently extinguished by plunging into a vat of chemicals. Firemen managed to get her out of the burning building and into an ambulance nefore rushing back in to their deaths. Amanda arrived at the hospital suffering severe chemical burns over 100% of her body. Essentially a bandaged mummy in a coma, no one expects her to live. Her rich family isn't so torn up about it, given the news that she will be blind and horribly disfigured for the rest of her life if she wakes up. As they talk amongst themselves at her bedside, they assume she can't hear them in the coma. It is quietly revealed that Amanda is in fact, adopted. The heart monitor begins beeping faster and a medical alarm goes off, before everything returns to silence.

((*standing applause*))

((All done! It's called Dark City.))

((Yea, I think I can do that. In fact, I'll go do it now before I settle in with GoT for the night.))

(( *munches popcorn* . . . . . . *realizes I don't even like popcorn and tosses it* ))

Don't mind me, I was just the shy, gothic, quiet girl in school. Not much has changed since then, so. . . Hi. My name is Chimera (pronounced kimmera), I'm 28 I think. My life has been no ray of sunshine, so I've always been addicted to RolePlay and Sim games. Needless to say, I'm beyond elated for Identity. I actually work on video games (not professionally, more of a hobby), so I can't wait to see what I can do with this one. I'm also a content creator on IMVU, so plenty of digital arts experience. You bet your ass I'm going to be a content designer here too. I have tons of ideas and conceptual plans as far as my actual Identity gameplay, but don't even know if it's all possible yet, as the game continues to develop. Soooooo, that's all my tired brain can dredge up to say right now. And since no one will even read this, I guess it's just helping to get my post counter up. Yay.

Yes, I love it. And I've never seen another one, so I'm gonna be sad when the rubber decays and it falls apart. Here's a "normal" picture. Yes, I'm caked in makeup and yes, the camera has a filter. I'm not nearly that pretty and I've got bad skin. Thanks, societal beauty standards.

I used to have a VampireFreaks account, but I never really got on well there. Didn't have any friends to hold my interest. And a LOT of perverts commenting nasty things on my pictures or direct messaging me. I tend to avoid media outside of FaceBook these days. This is about to sound fake as fuck, but I can prove it. My natural hair color is brown with 7 white streaks. I love the streaks, but hate brown hair, so I dye it black. Also, I'll go find a picture of me grinning. I've got fangs too. Here we go. The face under the pig mask.

Hah, yes, that's me in my pig mask. The hair is actually many small braids. But it's very thin and I've been meaning to buy a black wig to cut up so I can add more braids. Here's a better picture:

[Darkness. . . Pain. . . A slow, steady beeping sound. . . Voices. . .] Woman: "*muffled* . . . She probably can't hear you, but you're welcome to have about an hour or so alone with her. I'll be back in a while to check in. *receding footsteps* . . . . . . Mother: *tearfully* "I can't even see her face. . ." Father: "Be thankful for that. I got an eyefull when they were bringing her in." Mother: *choked sob* Brother: "Well, it looks like she'll be going as Freddy Kruger every Halloween now." *snickering* Mother: "Jeffrey! That is not funny at all!" Father: "Jeff. . . Have some respect. This is your sister. And besides, she's going to be the poster child for the new Plant." Mother: "What? How so?" Father: "Chemical danger awareness. It'll scare the piss out of the floor workers." *chuckling* Brother: "OOOHHHHHH!" *loud laughter* Mother: "Shut up, both of you! That is horrible! How can you even *muffled* . . . " [Silence. . . ] Woman: "*muffled* . . . That kind of soft tissue just- *sigh* I'm sorry. There really isn't anything we can do for her eyes. As far as the burns, we can do our best, but she will have so many disfigurements, that-" Father: "I don't care. I'll buy out every plastic surgeon in this city if I have to." Woman: "Well, even something like that would take several years-" Mother: "She's going to be ugly the rest of her life?! Blind AND ugly?!" *sob* Woman: "Well, I wouldn't say-" Father: "I don't care. She's still my daughter, ugly or not. She's still a human being and she can still have a career." Mother: "But what about marriage?! What about grand children?! No one is going to love a deformed freak!" Woman: "Mrs. Shepard, I'm sure it won't be as bad as *muffled* . . ." [Silence. . . ] Father: "I took out the life insurance. . . If she doesn't wake up in a week. . . I'll tell them to do it. Mother: "It would really be for the best. . . I can't bear her living a half-life as some grotesque cripple. Our family would be ruined. Father: "At least it wasn't Jeffrey. Our blood. And she never had to find out she was adopted. . . Try to see this as a blessing. Maybe God is telling us we should try again for a second child. . ." [Faster machine beeps. . . An alarm. . . ] Mother: *gasps* "What's happening?!" Father: "Do you think she heard us?" Mother: "Call the nurse!" Father: "*Muffled* . . ." [Silence.] ((And that's the end of my season one. Now to await season two. ^-^ ))

((My posts will also be getting longer. Can only do short ones for now because, well. . . I'm in a coma. I'm about to post my last one for this chapter, so give me about an hour as I'm not home and I don't have the text color options for the phone version.))

Thank you, thank you. Admittedly, I don't have "professional" work. Certainly nothing to build a website from. I pretty much never even remember to take pictures of my work. I don't even have a Deviantart account or anything. It's weird. I know if I put it out there, it would be widely received, but I've just never been a very flaunty person. I don't care for bragging or being in the spotlight. Also, it's peaceful being a nobody. I've been "famous" twice and it was Hell both times, so now I just keep to myself. Even as far as game design, I've never made a mod or anything. I've just tweaked the HTML coding in my own games, for personal enjoyment and for those who play on my servers. I've also applied for various game design jobs, but never been called, so I've kind of given up in that aspect. But to the extend of the tools given in Identity, I'm basically promising to provide quality Gothic style furniture and clothing.

[Darkness. . . Pain. . . Muffled yelling. . .] Floating. . . Drifting. . . Shaking. . . It hurts. Man 1: "No sign of the firefighters!" Man 2: "We don't have time to wait! Get these people out of here!" Sirens. . . So loud. . . It hurts too. Woman: "Check vitals!" Man 3: "And where the fuck am I supposed *muffled* . . ." [Silence. . . ] Woman: "Amanda Shepard, female, 28, severe chemical burns. Get her to ER. Start *muffled* . . ." Father: *muffled* . . . "Where is she?! Where is my daughter?!" Man: "Sir! You need to *muffled* . . ." [Silence. . .] Woman: "Feeding tube, *muffled* . . . Catheter and *muffled* . . . IV drips with 10 CC's of *muffled* . . . Monitoring *muffled* . . . " Man: "*muffled* . . . More bandages! *muffled* . . . " [Silence. . .] Man: "She won't make it through the night. Call the family." [Silence. . . ] [A slow, steady beeping sound. . . ] Woman: "She's stable. All we can do now is wait." [Silence. . . ] ((Well that post was. . . Colorful.))

((Woohoo! Thank you, that was great. As soon as I get to my laptop, I'll post something.))

((Have you established a number of days a person can go without posting before we skip them? My eye is twitching like crazy. I was told most RPs do 3 days, but I don't know for sure.))

Oh wow, I didn't even know I had responses, haha. Thank you all for the warm welcomes. So I think what I'm most looking forward to doing is furniture design and clothing design. Still working out brand names and such. I just really want to let my creativity flag fly. A little heads up though, My stuff will tend to be on the darker side. Anywhere from beautiful gothic/victorian furniture, to edgy, gothy clothing. I'll have to wait and see the tools I'm provided with in-game, but I'm a fast learner so I fully expect to shine.

[Darkness. . . Silence. . .] It felt like being burned alive and buried in ice all at the same time. There are no words to describe the pain. Even "excruciating" seems mild. [. . . Muffled voices. . . ] I guess this is what it's really like to die. . . No fluffy white clouds. No golden gates. No angels playing harps. Just darkness and pain. . . And the sounds of screaming. [Voices clearing up] "Get her out! Check for a pulse!" That's a really weird thing to hear people screaming in Hell. . .