ḁn ᶖmpenetrable ᶑarkness

​

It was on a bitterly cold, though altogether typical New England night that 22-year-old Alice Rembrandt was murdered in her home, poetically strangled and left upon the floor of her reading room. Her hair was not disheveled, scraps of flesh or splinters from her cherry hardwood floors were not found under her fingernails; one hand lay gently across her chest, the other on her side, resting peacefully on the floor. Her feet pointed towards the ceiling, perfectly perpendicular to the wood beneath her; everything about her was immensely peaceful except for the dramatic, sickeningly elegant throw of her head to the side, her eyebrows so barely furrowed together in a postmortem lament. A copy of Joseph Conrad's Heart Of Darkness lay beside her in the clean shadows cast from her windows so that two pages were visible, naked like her body except for an almost ostentatious white tanktop and underwear. Particularly underlined, as if with a ruler, was a single quotation from the book; "and for a moment it seemed to me as if I also was buried in a vast grave full of unspeakable secrets. I felt an intolerable weight oppressing my breast, the smell of the damp earth, the unseen presence of victorious corruption, the darkness of an impenetrable night."

When the police found her body, they ruled that she'd been strangled with a wire-like structure. They wrote it off as a suicide, because a single shoelace had been removed from her favorite pair of shoes. The shoelace's origins rested next to the chair that she had fallen next to, and the wool was modified into a domestic weapon of death. A single piece of wood was carefully wound into the shoelace, so that she could reach behind her and turn it, ensuring that she would continue to be deprived of oxygen even after she passed out from the lack of air to her brain. The book was confiscated as, first, evidence and then given to her mother, her only living relative, as her suicide note. Unable to bear the pain, the woman, distressed with grief, placed the book in her daughter's bookshelf and never looked at it again. The police mounted a brief homicide investigation, though with the absense of evidence of a struggle (the neck's placement was determined to be a result of the fall), Alice's known love of the dramatic, often macabre attitude, fervent love of Conrad's novella and the lack of struggle wounds quickly ended the investigation.

The funeral was to be scheduled for two weeks later, so that the coroner could prepare room in his schedule and cosmetically erase the black bruise, thin but deep, on her neck. Normalcy slowly prepared to return to the town of Greytide, Massachusets, though those that had known Alice knew that even after her funeral, things would have the eerie air of something sinister, something dark about them. Exactly one week after her death, five of Alice's closest friends recieved, left on their doorstep, a copy of Heart of Darkness. Upon a curious opening of the book, they would each find one quote underlined in each of their respective novellas, each different from another friend, along with, perhaps most chilling, the very same quote underlined at Alice's crime scene in each of their books, as well.

To the five friends, it is disturbingly clear that Alice did not, could not have comitted suicide despite what the police said. Someone had killed her. Someone had killed her with the purposeful intent of making it seem like a suicide and alerting those closest to her-those that already had the bestial inkling that something was amiss- that she had been killed for a reason, and such a reason was meant for them to find out. The police would never consider such trivial evidence as a book left at a doorstep; anyone could underline. With alarmingly little and generously ambiguous trails to follow, the dark death of Alice Rembrandt is swiftly fading into the dark river of history, that terrible, watery road that leads into the heart of an impenetrable darkness.


~


The characters in the journey of Alice's life and death are those of dramatic and dynamic disposition. The absurd thought that, perhaps, someone or something had picked you for this role flashed through your brain as you hear a policeman's voice droning in your ear.

HTML:

[size=1][b]Name, please.[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Your age, once again?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Your gender is what, again? It's just protocol.[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Height?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Weight?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Your favorite book?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Song?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Your likes and dislikes?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Religious and sexual affiliation?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Current partner/romantic interest, if any?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Your relation to Alice Rembrandt?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Where were you on the night of the murder?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]A short biography of your life with Alice, if you would?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]A recent photo of you would be great, thanks.[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Anything else we should know about you?[/b] [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color]
 [b]Any online aliases?[/b] {Delete this, including the brackets, when you reply. This is your username.} [color=darkred]"xxx"[/color][/size]

Roles Taken:

Civilian Files:
1) Best Guy Friend

Spoiler

Name, please. "Samuel LaFayette Corinx."
Your age, once again? "Twenty-two."
Your gender is what, again? It's just protocol. "Male. Thanks for asking."
Height? "Six foot 7 inches."
Weight? "One hundred and eighty four pounds."
Your favorite book? "Elegance of the Hedgehog. Muriel Barbery."
Song? "I don't know how that pertains, exactly, but Pretend by Lights."
Your likes and dislikes? "I enjoy literature, music, and art. I do not enoy spiders, the thought of drowning, or peppers."
Religious and sexual affiliation? "I'm straight, and a general Christian."
Current partner/romantic interest, if any? "Um. None."
Your relation to Alice Rembrandt? "One of her closest friends. Not a romantic interest, though. Just...just a close friend."
Where were you on the night of the murder? "I was at home, watching a recorded set of Being Human episodes."
A short biography of your life with Alice, if you would? "Well, we met in elementary school. Fifth grade, actually, when I immigrated from Canada. We were both in the highest reading group, so we were paired up in a certain part of the room. She was always a nice girl, albeit a little quiet. I could tell that she acted differently to everyone that she knew, really. Still. We didn't talk much throughout middle school, though our friendship kind of rekindled in freshman year in high school; we were alone in a lot of our classes, no other friends.

We graduated with a lot of the same classes, except I went down the road of creative writing, fiction writing, and art while she...well, I don't know. I never inquired as to what Alice did in college, but it was something literature related, I think...Perhaps it was book editing. Yes, I think it was that. Anyway. We kept in close touch. We went to various cafes a lot to talk about different stuff, discuss books we'd read, stuff like that. It's a little strange to know that we can't do that anymore."
A recent photo of you would be great, thanks. "Here you go, officer. http://i232.photobucket.com/albums/ee224/Demonic_darkwolf/Male_Stock_4_by_Katanaz_Stock-1.jpg[/img]]It's on the internet, on this URL."
Anything else we should know about you? "I'm severely arachnophobic."
Any online aliases? "Yeah. My username on everything's always BlackAndWhiteIsClassic."

Upon leaving the policeman's office, you see a strangely old document pinned up to the exit door.


~

PROTOCOL:​

1. All participators in this place be respectful and stay completely away from Codirectors Godmod and Powerplay.

2. All case reports must be literate, with at least a hefty, two-paragraph legnth, and acceptable formatting for said report. Colors and pictures are encouraged.

3. All discussion between participators in this place is strictly forbidden. Absolutely no discussion should go on between members of the roleplay, pertaining to elements of the RP, unless it is harmless public chatter in the OOC thread.

4. Please report immediately to Director Of Pride And Other Things for discussion of your role in this crime.

5. Please be respectful and curteous to all on staff.

6. All questions should be directed towards Director Of Pride And Other Things.

7. There is a signifigant chance that the murderer will never be found out. However, Director Of Pride And Other Things does believe you are all more than capable to figure out who it is.

8. If two characters discuss something away from everyone else, please do not pretend like you heard it or have a magical intiution to know what they are talking about.

9. I will reiterate this. You will know who you are. DO NOT reveal secrets told in confidentiality between Director Of Pride And Other Things and yourself to anyone at all! This scene is MEANT to keep players in the dark about each other. Do not ruin it by conversing, even if you are friends.

10. Suspect all. Leave no trail of evidence unfollowed, even if you must go alone or with only one friend. Please consult Director BlackAndWhiteIsClassic if you wish to follow a trail of what you consider evidence; he will have you post your folllowing of the first step, then PM you or whoever you're partnering with as to what you found.

11. Keep your friends close. Keep your friends closer.


~



Timeline:



October 18th: Alice's Death.
Current Date: October 25th.
Alice's Funeral: November 1

 

Aaaaaand, we're open! Tada~​