Tags:
  1. I.A. By the Barn

    I.A. By the Barn A very lost time traveller Contributor

    Joined:
    Oct 26, 2015
    Messages:
    1,235
    Likes Received:
    972
    Location:
    Tomorrow

    Ghost Therapists

    Discussion in 'Role Play' started by I.A. By the Barn, Sep 12, 2018.

    It’s 1962, we’ve had men in space now! But the unknown still lurks down on Earth, ghosts! Join a band of ‘ghost hunters’ who help people get rid of the ghosts by helping the ghosts find peace.

    The band is lead by David Johnson, an ex-psychotherapist. A couple of years prior he’d been found discharging patients after only a couple of weeks and was unable to give explanations to why their recovery was so swift and so the board of doctors started poking around a bit too much. The patients had been extremely distressed and were never diagnosed. Johnson didn’t want the truth to come out as it would like madness to a bunch of doctors so he respectfully resigned.
    The thing was, David Johnson could see ghosts. There was a disturbing amount haunting his patients and so, even though he could no longer help people in the position of a doctor, he was determined to help the small village of Little Doring in Devon. Taking out ad-space in a spiritualism magazine that he remembered his grandmother reading, Johnson could soon help further a field, with those who believed in ghosts.
    However David wasn’t using arm waving and banishment to remove this angry, sad, destructive ghosts, he was calming them down and then sitting down for a talk with them and soon, they faded away to wherever souls go.


    But now the calls have got too many and he couldn’t keep using Mrs Jones’s phone next door and it was a bit pricey for his own so he has to get to all these people! Johnson puts another ad in the paper, hoping someone will answer and be willing to help both humans and ghosts alike!


    Where you come in:
    You are successful applicant and have just arrived in Little Doring. Johnson is gathering everyone inside the Red Lion (a pub) and going to brief you and the others on what exactly everyone is doing and importantly, checking no one is just there for a laugh and can't see ghosts (you can fake if you so wish).



    Rules and Important things
    1. This is the 60s, I don’t mind slight inaccuracies e.g. wearing something from 1964 but getting out your mobile isn’t what we want here ^^
    2. There maybe more action later but at the start it is very much character interaction based.
    3. This isn't meant to be serious and intense so if you want act a little bit silly, don't be afraid.
    4. Character interactions such as injuries or killing with another person’s character should be discussed with that person before the post is posted.
    5. Character relationships are encouraged to blossom if it would suit your characters so don’t worry about that!
    6. No sexual scenes here please, write these elsewhere if you want to though
    7. Just general no being mean or godmodding thank you!
    Please post the character sheet in the discussion thread that I'll set up with further info ^^

    Character sheet
    Name:
    Age:
    Gender:
    Profession: (previous or alongside this one)
    Description:
    Basic Personality and Background:
     
    Isghamor likes this.
  2. Johan

    Johan New Member

    Joined:
    Jan 27, 2019
    Messages:
    1
    Likes Received:
    0
    First time posting here, I hope i don't screw up too much.
    Name: Johan Weissen
    An Englishman of German descent. Former soldier in colonial Kenya where minor skirmishes with the natives escalated into large scale conflict, in the midst of which Johan had been serving his country. Haunted by the sights he saw there he seeks help for the sleepless nights and paranoid days that have become his life. He is mild mannered and polite but bad under severe stress. Has a fondness for all things pre WWII, and pride in his ancestry. Is skilled with his handgun, but keeps it out of sight when possible. His normally steady hands however shake like leaves whenever he is gripping anything other than his gun or his cigarette. Has only partial knowledge of things pertaining to the military, having cheated his way through university. A relatively tall man being under 6 feet but with a athletic build. His messy brown hair tells of his English ancestry but his blue eyes, square head and sharp nose give him a distinctly German look. His voice is a deep baritone which comes off as higher than that due to his fast manner of speaking, which is full of oddities, reminiscent to those of doctor van Hellsing. Expect many Ja's und ze incorrect spellings. He is calm in the way he carries himself, but exhibits behavior which tells of his paranoia like the constant slow drumming of his left hand. He has not many friends as his current condition keeps him in a state of constant pessimism at the nature of other human beings. His greatest weakness is his reliance upon others for sound judgement which he believes himself to have lost, in the countless corpses he has laid to unrest. His current reserved lifestyle has deprived him of many joys in his life, but he has managed to find a speck of solace in his favorite dish, Latkes.
     
  3. Taku

    Taku Member

    Joined:
    Jan 18, 2019
    Messages:
    25
    Likes Received:
    16
    "Clink - clink!" doorbell ring as Michiko enter Red Lion.
    She wore a bright yellow rain coat, a bit wet from the drizzle outside.
    Dark blue skirt, and white blouse is seen between her coat.
    Putting off her wet coat on the rack, she look around the pub as it to find someone.

     
  4. myporpoiseisaliar

    myporpoiseisaliar New Member

    Joined:
    Feb 15, 2019
    Messages:
    8
    Likes Received:
    7
    Location:
    Granada, Spain
    • Name: William Baker
    • Age: 28
    • Gender: Male
    • Profession: Dropout from University of Exeter (BA World Literature), aspiring writer
    • Description: Average height, thin, jet-black hair, black eyes, aquiline nose.
    • Basic Personality and Background: His mother, a Spanish refugee of the Civil War. She was married to a Republican officer in Seville. The coup d'état forced her to escape the bloody repression with his two-year-old son, Guillermo Rolán García, to Gibraltar. Soon after they went to live in London among the Spanish community of refugees. There she met her second husband, Richard Baker, a wealthy businessman with a chain of stores along Southern England. New name, new life. They moved to Exeter, where Guillermo, now William, grew up with all commodities, well educated, and understanding parents. He is a loner, he prefers the company of books. He never had one iota of romance in his life, neither what it seems to be in his radar in the near future. He may be able to remain calm when in company, but he is always fidgety and gets heated up when discussing politics. He always appear to be gloom and broody. A rationalist, he is skeptic, although open-minded. He is mostly interested in getting ideas to write stories.
    He flicked the match and watch over intently to the opposite site of the street. It was a light rain but everything seemed to be sopping—the cars, the road, the air. He had been looking about for almost half an hour now. A young girl in a yellow raincoat had entered a couple of minutes ago. That was one of the usual suspects.

    For the last two months he had been skimming through all sorts of literature regarding the supernatural. Spiritism, necromancy, crystallomancy, tyromancy, soothsayers... He had even met with several individuals and groups that claimed to have a knack for magic. Suffice it to say that it all had been very disappointing, and quite disturbing. It seemed a sector of the population was keen to cheat persons in grief that had lost someone dear to them and didn't have the presence of mind to see through the deception. Illusionism and mentalism were the tools those swindlers used. Not that he was aspiring to stop all that plundering—beliefs and rituals as old as human society. But at least he could write a good piece denouncing the fraud.

    Two old carousers went into the Red Lion. His lost gaze on the dripping window of the black Ford in front of him. He took a look at the end of his unfiltered cigarette and felt the phantom of the past wash over him.
     
    Last edited: Mar 3, 2019

Share This Page