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[Chevalier-Ange]

TEMPUS TEMPORIS


RP Rules:

1. All general forum rules apply.  PLUS any added RP rules I include
2. No God Modding whatsoever... i.e.
    No changing events that already occurred ('blocking') if you weren't present when it occurred, you don't   know it happened. PERIOD.
    No making major decisions for other characters/killing them, or sending them away
3. Your character is not the greatest/best/most powerful of anything.
4. Don't hog the bad guy/guys/girls, but try to stay consistent with past behavior and actions
5. Out of Character posts or comments are to be Aqua <color=aqua> Post content is NOT to be colored at all
6. Use correct spelling and grammar. "I wud hate 2 c u use tipe lik dis"  So would everyone else
7. No double posting
8. If you edit your post, please include a note as to what you've changed (even if it's just spelling). If someone else has posted, you may not edit anything except spelling
9. Don't clutter the RP thread with pointless useless comments and arguments. If an issue arises, and the RPers cannot come to an agreement, then a MOD will be asked to intervene if applicable
10. No changing the above rules


How and where to start: *** NOT A NOVICE RP ***


1. Create a character using the example below (Be sure to include as much detail/info in their bio as possible/needed)

Name:
Nickname/Goes by:
Age:
Sex:
Nationality:
WHEN they were born: (VERY important)
Appearance:
Abilities/Education: (if applicable)
Weapon: (if applicable)
Background/Bio:
Other:

2. Wait for a reasonable and non-interfering point in the RP, and post your character bio.  Please include your first post at this point as well. If there is a problem, someone will point it out to you I am sure

3. Have fun, and post lots <_<


***

The World as you once knew it...has changed.  Or rather, will change again in the next 7 days.  It is still Earth, and you are still human, but...nothing about this Earth except what you remember from history books...makes any sense whatsoever.

One day, you are at work, or going about your business as usual, what ever the case may be, the next thing you know, you find yourself stuck in a Menagerie, a lab as it were, in a different time, and...a different place.  A lab with no definable boundaries, no walls, and very few human limitations.  A lab very much like the world you live on, or used to live on.  There are many people in this lab as well.  From every era known to mankind.  There are Roman Centurions, WWII Zero Pilots, Nazi's, American Pilgrims, Armored Knights, French Musketeers, Wall Street Business Men, and even African and North American Natives.  Every imaginable era you can remember, has someone from that time in this place.  Even those...history wishes it could forget. Sorry this is unclear, this means...no characters from the future. None from beyond 2007.  Today.

In this "Tempus Temporis", this Menagerie, the world you are in changes every 7 days at exactly 12 noon.  So does everyone around you.  Their faces are the same, their names are always different though, and their clothes always different, and they never remember the previous world.  And their roles in the 'change' are different as well.  A Mayor in one place could end up a Pirate in the next, and this goes unnoticed by all.   

...However, some people, such as you (the Player characters that is) can see this ever-changing world.  You don't seem to be affected the way everyone else is.  For the most part, depending on how long you have been here, you even remember who and what you actually were.  When you were born, what your job was, and...whether you were happy or not.  But...what you all want, is to find out what is going on, how and who is doing it, stop them, and go home...if...that is even possible at all.

(Note: Because I do not know how to include it, or where to mention it either.)

Every time the scene changes, the PC's and NPCs' clothes change to fit the times as well.  However, if you were wearing jewelry, or had a weapon and the like, it goes with you and you retain it.  Everyone and anyone can be killed and or injured in the RP.  If the NPC's are killed, they return in the next 'change' unaffected.  If a PC is killed, because they are 'different' then the NPC...they are dead. 

[A special Thank You to 'WhiteNoise' for helping me with the proofing of this RP, some plot holes, and just her overall C+C. *bows*]

***

Name: Sebastian Granger
Nickname/Goes by: Seb (short e)
Age: 27
Sex: Male
Nationality: American Immigrant, British Born
WHEN they were born: (VERY important) Born in 1980
Appearance: Short spiky black hair, about 6ft tall. (Not his hair of course :p) Sebastian is not what you call muscular, but his job does keep him very fit and toned
Abilities/Education: (if applicable) Sebastian is a well-educated person.  His first choice of vocation was a Lawyer, but after the first year of University, based on case history and the like, decided LAW Enforcement was better suited for him, and later chose to joined the Massachusetts Police Force
Weapon: (if applicable) 9mm Handgun
Background/Bio: Sebastian was born just outside London England.  His father, an international Business lawyer was offered a permanent placement with a large Corporation in Boston Mass, so when Sebastian was 5, his family moved there permanently, and later became (ugh) US citizens.  Sebastian always did very well in school, and when he graduated, he had his choice of Colleges and Universities, but eventually chose to be a Police Officer.  He figured...he could better serve the world in this capacity...much to his Fathers dismay of course.
Other: After just 4 years on the Boston Massachusetts Police force, Sebastian was offered a place on the Homicide team, which he happily accepted.  Sebastian has proved to be a superb officer in this capacity, and his fine attention to details at crime scenes is admired by many of his superiors. Sebastian served in this capacity until the day he vanished without trace, on May 1st, 2007.

-------

Sebastian looked down at his Indiglo watch again, checking the time and date carefully.  1150 am...on the seventh day.  "Argh...ten minutes left." he thought to himself. Ten minutes before the world he now knew would change again.  And stay that way for the next 7 days. Where would he end up this time...and when?

Since he arrived in this place, it has looked like Ancient Rome once, Jerusalem during the Crusades once, and 1950's California during the rein of the 'greasers', and somewhere in Europe during the Industrial revolution.
 
Panning his head left right, quickly he scanned the area for a suitable place to hide.  There weren't too many places available.  This last change had landed him in some remote part of a pre-industrial city, and with most of the buildings either collapsing, or so wet they were rotting before his eyes, his choices were limited. 
 
"What's the real point to hiding anyway?" he thought.  Then he remembered.  It wasn't so much as hiding, as it was 'getting out of the way' Two weeks ago when everything changed, he found himself walking on a set of railway tracks, and a very fast train approaching.  He barely got out of the way in time.  Since then, he figured it was best to be in a secluded or out of the way spot, then after the change, he could walk out at his leisure and look around.
 
"Damn it" he said out loud.  It was 1155am now. Only five minutes left.
 
"There has to be somewhere here to go." He continued to himself.
 
He then felt a tug on his leather coat as he was quickly pulled into one of the buildings he was passing.  As a hand was placed on his mouth, he heard a voice ask, "You see the changes too?"
 
Sebastian only nodded yes.
 
"And here I thought I was going crazy." The voice said as the hand was removed.
 
"Not unless we're both suffering from the same delusion!" Sebastian replied as he looked down at his watch.  1159am.
 
***
 
Sebastian stepped out through the building door, which was now more like a church, and looked around.
 
"Oh just great." He said furrowing a brow "19th century Midwestern America I would suspect."
 
"Where?" Came a voice behind him.
 
Sebastian turned around and got his first glimpse of the person belonging to the hand that used to be around his mouth.  Then looking down, he frowned at his new attire and quickly checked so see if he had his Watch, and his own Gun.  He did.  Then looking up at the individual again, he spoke.

"I'm Sebastian by the way." He said half smiling while carefully giving the person before him the once over.


EDIT: Fixed typos and clarified rules regarding 'when' your character can be born

EDIT EDIT: Fixed time of day we change as per post # 23

[Gnaborretni]

Name: Nikolai Kitchee
Nickname/Goes by: Nik, Kitch
Age:25
Sex:Male
Nationality:Mixed Native American and Russian ancestry
WHEN they were born: 1982
Appearance: Tall, around 6'3", with a fairly dark complexion. Well-toned muscular body, although his movements appear to be stilted, as if he is compensating for an old injury. Very erratic clothing style, which can vary from giant overcoats to leather outfits created in the traditional style. His hair is a dark brown/black, and is usually in a single braid, which runs midway down his back. His eyes, originally a hazel colour, have a reddish tint to them, as well as a glossy sheen to them, a result of the procedure on them.
Abilities/Education: Well-educated, having gone to a university. At the time when he went missing, he was enrolled in medical school, with plans to specialize in the growing field of robotic limbs, a field that he is well-versed in. Has mechanically-enhanced eyes, which were inserted in an attempt to restore his sight after a near fatal car crash in his final year of his undergraduate degree, these allow him to see quite far and accurately. Also has vast knowledge of historical events, especially those from the classical era. His medical training makes him well-suited to healing others.
Weapon: No weapons per say, but his knowledge of the body's vital parts is a weapon in itself. With his improved vision, he could learn how to use firearms very quickly. His protests have given him a contempt for authority which means he won't back down from a fight.
Background/Bio: Originally living in a suburban neighbourhood in the central U.S., he ran away from home at about age 13 to go live on a native reserve. Unlike many of the residents there, he managed to maintain his marks, and when he graduated at age 18, he had obtained a love of learning, as well as a scholarship at a prestigious university in the American Northwest. His time in the reserve had taught him about all the inequalities which were shown towards the First Nations. Accepting the scholarship, Nik went into pre-med studies, balancing his courses with activism, leading protests and the like. In his final year of pre-med studies, he was driving along when a car came careening into his lane. As a result of how the crash happened, his eyes were severly damaged. In an effort to restore his sight, Nik signed up for a radical new procedure, which would augment his vision through the use of robotic optic technologies. The procedure was a success, and had the added side effect of causing his vision to actually be sharper than it was originally. On May 1st, 2007, he did not show up for his job at the university library, and was declared missing a few days later.

-------

This was fascinating, and terrifying all at once.

Nikolai Kitchee was one who was not unfamiliar to either sensation, although he had to admit that the combination was something that he was unused to. It had been a little over a month now, since the changes had happened. First it had been Ancient Rome, something that his classical era mind had adapted to quite quickly. His rudimentary knowledge of Latin had even allowed him to assume some place in society. However, by the time he had adjusted, another change had happened.

This one he recognized as the Crusades, the initial first Crusade that was such a success, and yet such a slaughter at the same time. There, he had tried to stay out of the way, and tried to use his knowledge of medicine to save as many people as he could, both Arab and Christian. Here too, change had occured after a week's time.

Then he was in the 1950s, in California.

Then he was somewhere in the eighteenth century, in the European Industrial Revolution.

Now he was in a wet, damp, city, and he couldn't quite date his location.

In all of the "changes", he had noticed someone who seemed as initially clueless as him. Nik saw him muttering to himself, looking at his watch, which was very out of place in this current setting. He grabbed him by his coat, and pulled him into a nearby building.

***

"So you think we're in 19th century Midwestern America? Well, we can only hope that the Civil War has not yet begun, or that it has already passed." Nik said, considering the events of the time period. "Oh, and I'm Nikolai. I'm glad that I'm not going entirely crazy."

The sounds of cannonfire and gun shots broke the silence between the two men, and numerous men in blue uniforms crowded into the building.

"Well...I guess that answers my question..."

[Grey]

Name: Allessa Lucianna Previtera

Goes by: Allessa mostly, relatives (particularily her father) called her Lucianna or Lucia but since they're not around anymore its just Allessa
Age: 18
Gender: Female

Nationality: Sicilian
Date of Birth: 18th November 1264

Appearance: Mediteranian appearance with tanned skin, large brown eyes and brown hair streaked by the sun which reaches to about her elbows. Her clothing obviously changes but she wears a jade pendant around her neck which is visible and a pouch which she hides beneath her clothes. She prefers pants to skirts if possible and wears a belt in which she holds her weapons.
Education: Not a lot of education available in 1200's in Sicily but she speaks Sicilian (dialect of Italian if you didn't know), Spanish, French and English. She can read and write and do most basic arithmetic and knows a little about science and philosophy from her father. She has spent a large amount of time on boats and she is very comfortable sailing one. She learnt to fight from her father and various uncles but completed her training through the Vespers.

Weapon: Fights with the knives she has in her belt. This is the standard one short dagger and another long dagger that would have been very normal at the time. She is also competent at unarmed combat

Bio: Allessa was born in Sicily and grew up amongst her family. She is the oldest of four and lived with her mother father, siblings and grandparents. In the area also lived her two aunts and three uncles from her father side. Her family grew some small crops but their major income was fishing and transporting things to and from the mainland in the process. She grew up when Sicily was ruled by the French but her family were strong opposition to the French and with the introduction of higher taxes and she with her various cousins and brother joined the Sicilian Vespers, a rebel group opposing the French and fighting for a new king, Peter of Aragon. She was accepted even though she was a girl because of her family's strong ties to the organisation and she travelled across Sicily, through Europe and France working to free Sicily from the French crown. Because of her experience in sailing she spent most of the time on the ocean intercepting messages from the French and carrying information to the vespers. The vespers succeeded in having King Peter III instated as king in 1282, just after her 18th birthday. Soon after this she fell into the menagerie where she has been ever since. She is not a trusting person and she is very suspicious of those she meets in the menagerie. She avoids contact when possible, using the skills she learnt as a Vesper to remain inconspicuous.



Allessa sat back on her heels from her position watching the two strange men and sighed at her new apparel. The dark skirts were not going to be practical. She wondered yet again at the sheer incredulity of whoever had invented the things. They were impractical and uncomfortable, not to mention cold! Especially here where the wind was fierce and the sun dull amongst a grey sky. Pulling at the ribbons that bond back her hair in half pony tail she quickly tugged her long hair into a braid before refastening it.

Below her the two men seemed to have acquired some company, a host of other men wearing ridiculous blue uniforms. Shifting her knife belt so it was concealed under her jacket she surveyed her surroundings. Allessa had been very lucky that she had not fallen from her position on the second story of the building where she had hidden from the man lurking below. It now appeared to be a church of sorts that sat between a set of other buildings on either side along a muddy dirt road. Hitching her skirts so they were more manageable she quickly ran out onto the balcony that had appeared to the left of where she was crouched and swung herself onto the roof of the church. Quite proud of this achievement (anything beyond a walk was an achievement in skirts) she clambered down the side of the church and across the gap to the building next door.  Normally she would have moved as far away as possible from a group of people as large as that on the ground but the two men had mentioned the changes as if they could see them as well, they also seemed to know about the place that they were in at the moment. This was valuable information and she would follow them until she knew more.

Lieing low against the roof she sat on she began to move slowly in the direction the blue men were taking the two strangers. She must find out more.

[WhiteRoxie]

Name:  Lillian Hart
Nickname/Goes By:  Orange Heart ('Orangé Coeur')
Age:  22
Sex:  Female
Nationality:  French
WHEN they were born:  April 1st 1867

Appearance:  Naturally dark hair, with the fringe and front locks bleached to blonde. Keeps hair tied back in ponytail. Blue eyes and a small scar under the right eye. Around 175 cm or 5'8" tall.

Abilities/Education:  Talented actress, singer and dancer. Has picked up other skills in the changes.
Weapon:  A cutlass picked up in the late 1600s

Background/Bio:  Born in Paris, Lillian got into the cabaret society when it first 'began' in France. Her family were poor and just go by every day. She was trained to sing and dance before that by one of her mother's friends. Lillian took on the stage name of Orange Heart and started performing at the age of 18. Three years later, she mysteriously disappeared just before a performance. Orange kept her stage name in the Menagerie, which she has been stuck in for over a year. After being kept in the Menagerie, Orange lost her sense of reality and lives only for herself. She enjoys killing the 'people' put in her path. She remembers only a little of her life before she was taken.

Other:  Orange took her stage name from her favourite fruit. Also, she doesn't get along with others and prefers to be alone. She hates talk, especially small talk. Tends to swear often.

--@--

Orange was crouched down, meditating, ready for her 68th change. She hated the experience, the feeling of the world slipping away and coming back so quickly. Locks of her bleached- blonde hair fell in front of her face and she brushed them away, opening her clear blue eyes. 100 metres away, he stood facing away from her, leaning casually on his walking stick.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Lillian Hart, not that you're known by that name any more," the man took off his felt hat and ran a hand through the streaky brown and grey hair, "I've been trying to catch up with you for a while now, but you're a hard one to catch, even when you're not changing. But, here you are."

He chuckled. Orange stood up slowly, feeling the cutlass lashed at her side.

"Has anyone ever told you; you talk to much?" Orange hissed, drawing her sword. The man smiled.

"Do you plan on killing me now, Hart? I've been watching you. Every where we send you, you kill who you please. Quite the wanted murderer, if this were real. Though, I have to ask, when did you get your hair done?"

Orange twitched, "f***, just stop talking already."

The man turned serious, "I have a proposition for you, Hart."

"I don't want to hear it," Orange snarled and charged towards him, ready to strike down. The man sighed.

"What happened to you Hart? You were such sweet girl, back in France."

Orange swung the blade down and just as fast, the man turned around and blocked with his walking stick. Orange blinked, then frowned.

"I can get you out of the program, Hart," the man said softly. Orange released the pressure off her blade and then stepped back.

"There is a price, of course." The man fished a yellowing photo out of his pocket and held it out to her.

"Kill this man and I'll get you out," he spoke as Orange took the photo. She didn't recognise the man in the photo. "He's trapped, just like you. Take him out, and I'll give you your freedom. Back in France."

Orange tucked the photo into a pocket, "what, exactly, do you get out of this?"

The man shrugged. "Just another part of the game, really. Do you think you can kill a real person, Hart? He's not just an illusion."

Orange grinned sadistically, "Believe me, Monsieur, killing is the one thing I can do these days. What's his name?"

The man looked down at his pocket watch, like he didn't hear her question. "Oh, I guess you're going."

Orange frowned and stepped towards him, "the man I have to kill, what is his name?"

The world morphed around her and when it settled, the man was gone. Orange flipped around and sheathed her sword. She didn't recognise the place or the time she was in. Sounds of voices and possibly gunfire echoed down the small alley she stood in. Orange tugged on the long skirts she was now dressed in in exasperation.

"Shit, this is so annoying."

[Chevalier-Ange]

Sebastian slowly put his hand into coat and reached for his gun.  A split second later, he felt Nik's hand on his arm.

"A weapon?" Nik asked.

"Yes...Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson to be exact." Sebastian replied sheepishly "All 9mm of them."

"Can you actually use it?" Nik asked sounding somewhat skeptical.

"I'm a cop, or was." Seb spat back "What the hell do you think?"

"Ok then," Nik replied "I didn't feel like going anywhere with these bastards anyway."

"Good."

And with that, Seb pulled his gun out, and began firing at the soldiers as Nik grabbed one by the arm, and swung him onto the other causing both men to drop their weapons.  Quickly picking one up, Nik used the bayonet side to end a few, and used the stock to crush ones skull...quite nicely.

"That's all of them." Seb said checking the clip to see how many rounds he had left. "Let's get somewhere not so easily found before we get killed or something."

"Wait?" Nik asked worried "We can die here as well?"

"Yeah...I've seen a few like us die." Seb replied "And I haven't seen them return either."

The two men looked at each other for a moment as if reading each other's minds.  They then headed for the back of the church, and open the rear door.

"Well?" Nik asked motioning his head towards a farmhouse not too far away.

Seb nodded and they both began a dash for the structure they hoped would be of some comfort.

[Protome]

Name: Kieran Bamford
Nickname/Goes by: Protome
Age: 26
Sex: Male
Nationality: Scottish
WHEN they were born: (VERY important): 1900
Appearance: Protome has a plain, easily forgetable face. His clothing was originaly a generic ninja costume fitted especially for him but it was lost in the first change. He has dark green eyes and medium length black hair.
Abilities/Education: (if applicable): Talented assassin and spy, was trained since his birth to become both.
Weapon: (if applicable): The "Sword of Light" a Katana given to him by his mentor.
Background/Bio: Protome was born into the N.I.N.J.A. Project. A project with the sole intent of breeding a new race of Ninja assassins who would used by world leaders to assassinate threats. The project however ended up being a drain on military funds and so the ninja were hired out to anyone who could afford them.
Other:His first mission was to kill a man who claimed to be from the future and had tried to spark a revolution against the American government. After the man was dead Protome had been ambushed and knocked out. He woke up in what had appeared to be the Roman age.
Hope this is ok, I'll change it if need be! ^_^


His suit was gone. That had upset him. However Protome found there were more important things to worry about. The place they were in seemed to be transporting them in time, currently Protome was unsure of where they were. History was not his strong point. He sat on the roof of one of the few buildings that had appeared and watched everyone below him. Every now and a again people would look up at him but they never truely took notice. To them he was justs a silly man in a silly hat sitting on a roof, and that was his gift. No one noticed him unless he gave them a specific reason to notice him which is what he planned to do now.
Protome jumped down from the roof and landed silently on the ground below. He spotted the two men he had noticed earlier. They had noticed the world changing too, he knew this. And so he decided to moniter them more closely. He walked past the buildings taking in every little detail despite knowing it would all change soon. There was some kind of a meeting happening in the centre of the small town they had appeared in. All the people who could not see the world changing were congregating for some reason. This was unimportant to him though and so he walked towards the two men who were running in the direction of one of the farmhouses.
Sorry if it's not very good, I'm out of practice. I'll get better as the rp goes on, just watch me!
Edit: Changed my profile, I think it's ok now, but please tell me if I missed something xD

[Grey]

Above on the roof tops Allessa watched on. This was interesting, after the two men had disappeared into the farm building two others had appeared. The first, a man, had appeared on another rooftop barely 10 metres away from herself causing her to duck closer to the roof top and thank god that her skirts were dark like the roofing around her. Not noticing her he had moved carefully down to the building. He was obviously practiced at what he did, she had wanted to take the route that he had taken but she would have to take a diffirent approach now. It was strange, he acted as if he was well trained, it was luck really that she had spotted him at all and that he had not noticed her crouching so close. He had been distracted by the recent shift and the two men, she would have to be much more careful next time.

The second appearance was a girl, a little older than herself with coloured hair. She had materialised in an alley way just below where Allessa herself sat. She was obviously not as trained as the man had been but she moved with purpose and she had the air of someone who knew death. Both of these new stranger were dangerous as could be the two others who had since settled inside the farmhouse and she would have to be very, very cautious.

[Chevalier-Ange]

Before anyone else posts.  I realized last night the plot summary seems a little unclear regarding when your character 'can' be born.  I refer to 'history', the past, and say things like 'as far back as you can remember'.  This means, your character "CAN NOT" be from the future. I actually told everyone who created a character this...except Protome.  (I was asleep  ) I PMed Protome already, and appologized for the confusion, but the truth of the matter is, the forum will not let me edit the original post for some reason, and I am waiting for Mike to get online to assist. Sorry about this.  So please...no characters from the future.  M'kay...thanks.

EDIT:...ok, Mike fixed it.  Thanks Mike. So, post away.  And please...read the rules ok.  Thanks

EDIT: Actual RP post ^^

--------

Seb and Nik quickly took cover anywhere they could inside the abandoned farmhouse.

"Nice job with the 'Yankees' back there." Seb quipped with a smirk. "You've done this before I take it?"

Nik looked at him for a second smiling as he caught his breath "No, not really." Nik replied as he inhaled slowly and deeply trying to relax him self a bit "It's just easy when you know where to hit them I suppose."

"Meaning what exactly?" Seb asked as he plopped down on the floor with a thud slightly winded.

"Meaning," Nik began "you can hit a man several times over, and all he does is grunt and groan in pain.  But...if you hit him in the right place the first time...he doesn't move too well after that." He added with a smile.

"..."

"What did you say you used to do again?" Seb asked curiously.

"I didn't." Nik replied semi sarcastically "But...I was a Med student until my injury, so..."

"Ah...makes sense I guess."

"Yeah...it does." Nik added "And exactly what is your field of expertise officer?"

Seb just smiled sheepishly "It's detective actually.  Boston Homicide." He added as he gazed at his watch.

Nik watched carefully and observed the style of watch closely.

"Well, you aren't from too far in the past judging by that Indiglo." He said.

"Nope...I was born in 80.  You?"

"82"

"Thank God."  Seb replied in relief  "The last person I spend any time with was from East LA during the 50's"

Nik just rolled his eyes and sat down beside Seb "That had to be fun I bet."

"Oh yes." Seb replied sarcastically "I swear, if I ever hear another Abbot and Costello joke, I'll smack the person so fuc..."

"Shhh..." Nik interrupted quickly hearing what sounded like grass rustling "You hear that?"

"Oh yeah." Seb replied as he once again checked his clip for ammo, then slid the chamber back loading his gun.

"I so wanted you to say no." Nik replied getting up slowly.

"Sorry..." Seb shrugged as he too stood up, and the two men hid from site of the door.

[WhiteRoxie]

Orange looked out the entrance of the alley, carefully taking in her surroundings. People moved along the streets at a casual pace. She wouldn't be able to go anywhere with the cutlass completely unhidden. The alleyway extended a fair way back and split in two, heading off in opposite directions. Orange, casting one last glance around, walked quickly down the alley. She turned left and noticed a back door into a shop of some kind. Entering she realised it was a bakery. The baker turned around and frowned at her.

"What are you doing back here?" Orange smiled and unsheathed the cutlass, running him through neatly. He gurgled blood and collapsed on the floor. A staircase lead upstairs to what Orange presumed to be the baker's house. Taking the stairs quickly she rummaged around until she found a set of clean clothing that would fit her. The pants she found were a little loose around the waist, but not uncomfortably so. Orange bound up her hair and tucked it under a hat she picked up. From downstairs, she heard a scream as undoubtedly someone found the baker's body. Orange forced up a window and crouched on the windowsill. She wouldn't make the fall, but her chances of getting onto the roof of the house next door she slightly larger. Pushing off, she propelled herself through the air, grabbing onto the edge of the roof. Pulling herself up, she caught her breath lying on the warm roof, closing her eyes. A voice caught her attention and Orange opened her eyes to find herself faced with two deep brown eyes and a dagger at her throat.

"You're not from around here, are you?" The woman asked. Orange rolled her eyes, feeling her fringe falling across her face again.

"I suppose you're not either," Orange replied. The woman shifted, but didn't take the dagger away.

"Sicily, late 1200s." Orange watched the grey clouds pass over head, threatening foul weather as the woman talked. "What about you?"

"19th century France," Orange said after a pause. She supposed it was better to answer the lady's question, rather than have her throat slit.

The woman made a 'tch' noise. "French," she said with disgust. Orange scowled and used her distraction to her own advantage. Kicking the other woman's feet out from under her, she twisted the two of them over so that Orange had her pinned and her forearm across the woman's throat.

"Careful what you say. Your France and my France have 600 years between them. Don't make a shitty remark that you'll regret in the afterlife," Orange hissed. A tense moment passed between the two women before Orange released the pressure and sat back on her heels. The other woman sat up and rubbed her throat.

"I'm Allessa Previtera," Allessa introduced herself. Orange watched the movement on the streets, wondering if they had been noticed up here.

"Orange."

"Beg your pardon? Orange?" Allessa looked confused. Orange snapped.

"It's my f***ing name, okay?"

Allessa raised her hands apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

Orange stared up at the sky, not replying.

Allessa simply watched the slightly older woman as she cloud-watched.

EDIT: Typo.

[Gnaborretni]

The door creaked open, and a lone soldier walked in, rifle in hand. As he walked in, suddenly the door slammed shut. The soldier turned around, and looked straight down the barrel of a rifle, so close that he could smell the acrid stench of the gunpowder.

"I hope you don't mind if we ask you a few...questions, do you?" Nik asked the soldier, as he held the rifle.

"Y-you're Confederate spies, aren't you! I-I'll never tell you anything!" The soldier said, resisting the urge to flee.

"Do me a favor, will you? Look to your left." Nik replied to the soldier, as calm as could be. The soldier looked to his left, and stared down the barrel of another gun, one he didn't recognize. "See that weapon there? I'm sure you don't recognize it. It's new technology, something that you've never seen before. After all, how do you think we took out all your friends?"

The soldier's face blanched, as he looked the weapon up and down. "B-but it's s-so little! How could that do any damage at all?"

"Do you really want to find out?"

The soldier backed up a step. "No! No! I'll tell you whatever you want, although really, I don't know all that much..."

Nik lowered his rifle, and proceeded to interrogate the soldier. "Ok. Where are we? What's the date today? Who's your commanding officer?"

"U-uh, we're in Tennessee, near Shiloh, and it's mid-April. My commanding officer is Grant." The soldier managed to say with some confidence. "But you should know all that, shouldn't you?"

"Actually, no. Thanks for your time, and I hope this doesn't hurt too much!" Nik picked up his rifle from the ground, and hit the soldier on the head. He slumped down to the ground, unconscious. Nik turned to Seb, "Hmm, well at least we know exactly where we are now, although being labeled as Confederate spies around the site of a great Union victory is certainly not a good sign."

"That's certainly an understatement. We should probably find another way out of here..."

Nik walked towards one of the walls of the barn, and pushed it with his hand. It had some give. Hoisting his rifle like a club, he swung it at the wall, creating an opening.

"Geez! Are you ever going to actually fire that thing, or just keep swinging it like a maniac?!" Seb quipped, as they left the barn.

[Grey]

Allessa silently cursed under her breath. She had not expected the woman to have any sort of skill but she seemed to be very capable of handling herself, if not so in a fairly untrained manner. What's more, she was french! Allessa glanced across at this new stranger. What sort of a name was Orange anyway. She should not have revealed herself to the woman but she had honestly not expected her to be a threat. Her father would have scolded her for that almost fatal error. Stealing another covert at the woman not an arms length away Allessa regarded her position. The woman was dangerous, not to mention French and named after a type of fruit but maybe she could be of use to her. She seemed to be aware of the situation around them and perhaps held infromation that could be valuable to her. Allessa stood abruptly.

"Where are you going." Orange eyed her suspiciously

Allessa just smiled and adjusted her skirts, "better clothes," was all she said before jumping down into the house that lay below them.

NOTE: sorry its so short...

[Chevalier-Ange]

Nik and Seb made they're way through the wall, and once clear, paused to decide what direction they should go.  From what they could see, there wasn't much around, but they felt relieved nevertheless, as there wasn't any soldiers there either.  Every now and again, they would hear gunshots, and duck their heads and cower slightly, but no infantry ever appeared.

"Well?" Seb asked, "You seem to be the history buff.  Which direction?"

"Like I know?" Nik retorted "I've never been to Tennessee in my life."

"Great."

"We should head north though." Nik added "The South loses remember?"

"No...really?" Seb replied sarcastically as he rolled his eyes.

"Heh..." came a voice from behind them "Are you sure that's wise?  After all, you are Confederate spies you know Nik."

Seb and Nik turned around with a jolt and stared at a strange looking man in a felt hat leaning on a walking stick.

"Who the hell are you?" Seb asked pointing his gun in the mans face.  As Nik actually pointed the barrel of the rifle at someone for once.

"Easy Sebastian." The man retorted "You wouldn't want to draw attention to yourselves now would you?"

Seb walked close to the man, and put his gun directly on the mans cheek "I asked you a question!"

"Heh...well, you might call me the 'Director' of this little show you've been in lately." The man replied "And if you want to get out alive, you'll remove that pistol from my face Detective."

"Seb?" Nik asked curiously.

Seb lowered his gun from the mans face and stepped back, but Nik kept the rifle trained on him just in case.

"Ok talk." Nik said "and you can start by telling us what the hell is going on, and where the hell we are really!"

"Oh, I don't think I can do that actually." The man replied sheepishly "But, I can get you out...unharmed, and return you to your life." He added "Your real life. If you are willing to help me that is?"

"..."

"..."

"Or," the man in the hat then said, "I can let the 'show' continue for you, and see how you both fair right?"

Sebastian's eyes closed slightly, and he gritted his teeth.

"What do you want then?" Seb asked.

"Hey" Nik interrupted "Are you nuts? This guy..."

"This guy," the man interrupted "can make you show up in 1750 Siberia if he wanted too." He added in a sly sarcastic tone "But...I'm willing to let you go, if you help me with this."

"Wait a second." Seb retorted, "If you are the 'director' as you say, and you can do all this, then why do you need our help?" he then asked.

"Well...it's all part of the show really." The man replied, "To test the human will...the human spirit...the human conditioning."

"Ok," Nik said pushing the rifle in to the mans chest "Just who the hell are you asshole?"

"I already told you." He replied "And if you don't decide in the next 30 seconds, I'll find someone else." He added as he pulled out his pocket watch and stared at it.

Nik and Seb looked at each other perplexed.  All that was going through Seb's mind was, how was this guy doing this, and would he really be able to go home if he helped.  A few seconds later, he spoke up.

"Fine...I'll help you." Seb said, "What do you want us to do?"

The man smiled and put his hands in his pocket.  "Our tests and 'shows' are being tainted by someone who insists on murdering our subjects in every place we send you.  Find the murderer Detective, and stop that person by what ever means you wish, and I will release both you and Nik here to your lives."

"..."

"..."

The man then turned around quickly, and headed inside the farmhouse.

"Hey," Nik yelled "that's it?"

Nik and Seb looked at each other for a second, then returned to the farmhouse as well.  Once inside, they saw...nothing.

"What the hell?" Nik asked perplexed. "He vanished."

"Dammit." Seb cursed under his breath "That's perfect...just perfect." He added in a very sarcastic tone as he headed back outside, and waited for Nik to catch up.

EDIT: Stupid typos

[WhiteRoxie]

Orange sneezed. f***ing weather, she thought to herself. Bringing her knees up under her chin, Orange watched the people mill around on the streets. Two straight lines of men in blue jackets marched quickly past. She sighed. Previtera isn't coming back. It was pretty obvious. Orange stood up and walked to the edge of the roof. And jumped.

Landing neatly in a crouch in front of a group of ladies, Orange smiled. She approached one of the ladies; she looked fairly well off.

"Say," Orange started in a sly tone of voice, "do I know you?"

The lady, looking slightly amused, shook her head. "I do not believe so."

"Oh." Orange frowned. "It's just... you look a lot like the next person I'm going to kill."

The lady looked confused and opened her mouth to say something only to be interrupted by a cutlass through the abdomen. Orange ripped the sword out and sliced at another one of people. Her world melted into a red that didn't recede until there were ten bodies littered around her and the street was deserted. She grimaced at the blood splattered across her shirt and wiped hand across her face. In the silence of the street, the sigh seemed to echo. Orange looked up to see Allessa sitting on the roof again.

"You killed all those people," Allessa said in a disapproving tone, though her face looked calm. Orange looked around and nodded once. Allessa jumped from the roof and landed next to her. She was no longer wearing a skirt, but more 'sensible' clothing. That's when they noticed the man cowering in a door. He squeaked and ran off in the direction the soldiers marched yelling 'murder' as loud as her possibly could. Orange sheathed her sword and started off in the other direction.

"Wait, you just killed all these people and now you're walking off?" Allessa was a little surprised at Orange's casualness.

"Well, yeah," Orange called over her shoulder, "I don't like hanging around corpses, especially with soldiers on the way. Which reminds me, you might wanna get the hell out of here."

"Why? I haven't done anything wrong," Allessa frowned. Orange sighed, her fringe bouncing as she did and turned around.

"Yes, but that man's going to give him a description of the murderer that goes something like: a crazy-ass woman wearing men's clothing wielding a knife." Orange paused and looked Allessa up and down. "And, in case you haven't noticed, you also fit that description." Orange kept walking. Allessa scowled, but followed after her.

After running 50 metres or so and turning a corner, Orange swung around and Allessa stopped suddenly.

"Wha-"

"Just because I said you needed to get out of here doesn't give you f***ing permission to follow me, Previtera," Orange said irritably. Allessa folded her arms and went to say something, but a whistle and the sounds of marching stopped her. The two women exchanged glances and took off in the same direction, eager to get away. Orange smiled as she ran. Running from the authorities was almost as fun as actually killing the people.

Orange slowed down after a while and started walking along. Allessa stopped beside her.

"You're not running any more. Aren't you worried we'll get caught?"

Orange grinned, "I'll kill who I please and take down anyone who tries to stop me."

[Protome]

Protome thought about what he had just overheard. To kill this murderer would allow the killer to be released. This could work out well. Protome left his spot in a tree next the window of the building the two men were in and bolted onto the rooftops and then leapt between a few different buildings. When he was far away enough he turned to see if he was spotted, he hadn't been. He surveyed the streets and was surprised to see two girls walking down the street with several blue shirted soldiers following closely behind. The soldiers were clearly trying to be stealthy and it was working for them at the moment however Protome did not intend on allowing that to continue, it would be a good deed. Also, he hadn't fun in a while now. So he leapt down from the rooftops in front of the soldiers who instantly aimed their weapons at him and took up defensive positions and stayed crouched against the ground his hands holding onto his Katana's hilt.
"HALT!" The leader of the group shouted despite the fact the Protome was still on the ground."Drop your weapons and move out of the way, NOW"
Protome slowly rose from his position and drew his sword.
"Shall I drop it here or pass it ove to you?" Protome asked kindly. A broad smile rose across his face, but he looked towards the ground so that the soldiers would not notice.
"Uhhhh," The soldier began as this was clearly not the reply he had expected. "Pass it...I suppose."
Protome held his blade in one hand and then rose it into the air and let it fly, the blade pierced the soldier's head and blood spurted from the wound. The other soldiers turned to look at the wounded soldier and then returned their gaze to Protome and let loose fire. Protome leapt forward and sliced into the first soldier with a dagger and then swung round to pull his Katana back out of the lead soldier. The remaining soldiers reloaded their rifles, which was taking even longer than it should as they were getting worried. Protome casually walked up to the next soldier and struck him down and walked until he met the final soldier, hiding in an alley behind a pile of boxes.
"What...what are you!?" The man shouted as he fired his last ammo into the air.
"I'm the man who is going to end your life." Protome was smiling badly now. He was enjoying this more than he should be. His blade rose into the air and sliced the man cleanly in two, and smiled as a the fountain of blood covered him.
There was a sharp poke at his back. Protome put his hands in the air and dropped his weapons.
"I don't f***ing need your help." Came a voice, no doubt of the person wielding the blade.
"Orange, you should leave him. He was only trying to help, and he doesn't seem to be one of them." A second voice said, both were definately female.
"Oh. Name, Place of origin and Date. Now." Orange asked Protome.
"Protome, Scotland, 1920s" Protome replied.
"You're lying, your sword has f***ing Japanese symbols on it."
"His accent sounds Scottish."
"It's a Japanese sword, It's around 300 years older than I am."
"Ah, that explains it. Still, I don't f***ing trust him."
"You don't have to." Protome said and he spun faster than Orange could swing her sword. Protome took his sword and dagger and rose onto the rooftops. He saw Orange sheath her sword and turn to talk to the other girl before he leapt across to a different rooftop in search of a change of clothes...

Edit: Changed the Bullet dodgingness

[Mike Caron]

..and continued loosing all their ammo at Protome who casually dodged each bullet.

Buh? Bullets always travelled fast, even in the Civil War.

(Yes, I am making a character, but I need more time)