"Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: MabFaerie on 11-02-2013, 07:41:34</h2>
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				Title: <strong>"Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MabFaerie</strong> on <strong>11-02-2013, 07:41:34</strong>
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				<div align="center">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/Nightime_zpsab436433.jpg)</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Andale Mono;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">PROLOGUE </span></span></div><br>How long had it been since she'd seen the sky? <br>How long would it be still? <br>It felt as if it were always night in this strange place. With it's impenetrable darkness and bitter cold that crept into her bones and turned them to ice against her will. The gusts of wind against her already freezing skin in windowless rooms were the worst; they didn't even have the decency to give her the false hope an open window would have provided. She knew, as she had the moment she'd entered this strange place, that there was no escape save death.<br><br>Logic and Time had no authority here. It was as if the world stood still around her, mocking her with shadows that could never be lit and terrifying whispers in lonely, vacant rooms. <br>More than being stuck here, she hated the way the hallways seemed to twist and turn of their own will, chauffeuring her down some pre-determined path, allowing her no say in the matter. Even when she turned around, she somehow ended up farther away from the places she'd started at.<br><br>Now, shivering and exhausted, she crouched behind a worn, folding paper screen. Her back was pressed against an equally cold wall in a tiny room off the side of one of the many, countless corridors in this strange, confusing place. All she'd done the entire time she was here was find a quiet place to hide. Somewhere she could close her eyes and weep, alone, away from those... those <em>things</em>. <br>This was all that stupid dairies fault! Sniffing, she retrieved the worn, blue diary from her bag, flipping it open to the inside cover page, looking at the words written in her own familiar handwriting. It was her name there in the corner, but she hadn't written it. And the pages inside the diary were also done in her handwriting, fragments of her life, old memories, all neatly placed in that book. Page after page, recounting fragments of her existence, in writing identical to her own. <br>Only she hadn't written any of it.<br>The diary continued to write itself, even after it had come into her possession. <br>At first, she'd thought she was going mad. Maybe having blackouts and writing in the diary herself without remembering so. That all changed when she saw the writing scrawl across the page before her very eyes. The diary of her memories was writing itself. <br><br>If only she hadn't found that diary!<br>If only she'd just left it alone...<br>If only...<br><br>Her train of thought was interrupted by a sharp, soft sound that seemed far away at first but was slowly gaining in proximity, sounding closer and closer with every passing second. It took her a moment to realize what it was: laughter.<br>A womans laugh, to be specific. Though it wasn't a happy sound. To be accurate, it was closer to the sound of an unstable womans laugh.&nbsp; A maddening sound. She had heard that sound before. <br><br>"No. She's found me!" She whimpered, her words breathy and frightened. Scrambling to her feet, she began to run, knocking over the paper screen in her haste and half crawling-half sprinting down the hallway. <br>Behind her, the laughter followed, a dark haired woman was on her tail, gliding towards the frightened girl faster than the her tripping feet could outrun.<br>The girl stumbled, crawled towards a nearby door, her trembling fingers reaching for the knob, desperate to put some kind of solid distance between her and the horrifying figure, as hopeless as that might be. She grasped the knob and turned it sharply, only to find the door was locked and would not give, she was trapped and the woman was already upon her.<br><br>"I remember you..." The dark haired woman whispered as she closed in.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>"No! It's not me! I didn't write that diary! I don't know you!" The terrified girl pleaded as the ghost reached a hand out towards her.<br>In an instant, it was over. It only took one touch, and then the light fled from her eyes.<br><br>Losing her grasp on the journal, it clattered to the floor, flipping open to the cover page as it did. <br>Inside it, the name "Sarah Matthews" was slowly fading away, as were the words written on the pages inside the journal. <br>Everything that had been in it, was gone. <br>All of the words. <br>All of the memories. <br>All of Sarah.<br><br>Gone.<br><br><hr>(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/32db983b-00e7-4ea1-8ea9-234abdb93919_zps58cebb3d.jpg) (http://s127.photobucket.com/user/Mab_faerie/media/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/32db983b-00e7-4ea1-8ea9-234abdb93919_zps58cebb3d.jpg.html)<br>Current Player Locations<br>Mab and Luna: Main Foyer<br>Sephie, Kita and Ashena: 2nd floor stairway, leading down to first floor Foyer.<br>Rosie and Cosmo: Eastern Hallway leading out into Foyer<br>Lumasan: Unknown *not in manor atm*<br>Karasu: Unknown *not in manor atm*
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				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MabFaerie</strong> on <strong>12-02-2013, 04:13:00</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/b36a2cbe-7ec2-4a0f-83c1-80b5a9177b34_zps94ff6f9e.jpg)</div>While juggling a Styrofoam coffee cup in one hand and a stack of papers in the other, Aislin McCarthy somehow managed to nudge the main door of her office building open with her shoulder and step inside. All done without spilling a single drop of the hot, steaming liquid. <br>"Aislin! Good morning!" A familiar voice called out, one which Aislin immediately recognized as her boss' secretary, Madeline Cross.<br>"Morning, Madeline. Any invoices for me today?" Aislin asked, eyeing the perky, large chested blonde that sat behind the main desk of the two story office building.<br><br>Madeline was, for the most part, hired because of her looks. She was sweet and strikingly pretty, but bless her heart, she was <em>dumb</em>.<br>&nbsp;It usually took three or four tries of explaining something to her before she understood it. Still, Madeline was the closest thing Aislin had to a friend, so she did her best not to step on the girls toes too much by pointing out how slow she was to the draw. <br><br>"I left them in your office. Have you finished the Stevenson report?" She asked, tilting her head and allowing her tightly coiled golden ringlets to sway to the side just so. Aislin was willing to bet Madeline had practiced doing that, she was convinced that there was no possible way someone could be <em>that alluring</em> naturally.<br>Then again, who was Aislin to say? She couldn't even make friends properly, let alone lure anybody with seduction.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>"I invoiced it over last night, didn't Roy receive a copy?" Aislin asked, knowing the answer already. This was the third time this month that Aislin had faxed a copy to both her boss, Robert Lawson, as well as to her client, in this case the Stevensons, and ended up with Madeline losing the paperwork somewhere in between. <br>"Uhm, Sorry Aislin, I don't see it anywhere!" The young blonde actually pouted for a moment, wrinkling her brow in obvious frustration as she shuffled through various documents on her desk.<br>"Give me a minute to get settled in, I'll send you another copy to your work email." Aislin resisted the urge to roll her eyes and kept moving down the long, boring, cream coloured hallway towards the elevator, her long purple peacoat jostling about with her nearly frantic speed.<br><br>Nudging the second floor button with her elbow, she slipped past the opening doors of the elevator and took a sip of her coffee. With a sigh, she leaned against the wall, watching the doors close and listening to the ever familiar bell chime that signaled the elevator would begin its ascent.<br>Absent-mindedly, she shifted her paperwork so it was snug and fit beneath her arm and allowed her now freed hand to toy with the camera that rested against her chest, dangling there via the thick, black leather cord strewn around her neck.<br><br>"Wish I was out on a shoot." She murmured dejectedly. The paperwork and the office grind had never been her seen. She much preferred the action portion of her job as a photo journalist. Sitting around in meetings that never seemed to end never was and never would be her cup of tea. Even calling herself a Photojournalist never seemed quite so accurate as she did a lot more than just take photos and write articles. Her company was affiliated with a home design company, a sister-site as it were. Not only that, but it provided information in the way of photos and data to many magazine companies and fashion establishments. Aislin never did just one specific thing, her photos were never just of houses, her drawings never just of clothes and her research never just of people. She was a photographic jack of all trades, master of... well, some. <br><br>As the elevator dinged once more, Aislin turned her attention away from the camera and out onto the hallway that had slowly begun to reveal itself as the elevator came to a still and the doors parted once more.<br><br>Tucking a strand of wispy, red hair neatly behind her left ear, Aislin stepped out of the elevator shaft and strode briskly down an equally boring cream coloured hallway, decorated with famous photographs and equally famous news clippings. Simple brown doors lined each side of the hall, leading out into simple little rooms with simple little people inside them. Aislins own simple room was on the left, the third door down from the elevator.<br><br>The room itself was scarcely decorated and looked abandoned at best. In the center of the room sat a neat and tidy brown oak desk with a black swivel chair behind it. The wall overlooking the desk held three long, floor length french windows that poured bright light into the room. Set slightly off to the side of the office was a coffee table set between two dark blue cushioned chairs that hardly ever saw much use.&nbsp; The opposite corner was home to a silver filing cabinet that Madeline probably wouldn't know how to work even if Aislin showed her. <br>Atop the desk rested two black Sending and Receiving trays, both of which were currently empty.&nbsp; Beside the tray was a tall glass lamp that hardly ever saw any use since the windows provided so much light on their own and Aislin didn't normally stay late enough for it to become dark. <br>Waiting in the center of the desk, just as she'd left it the day before was Aislins work laptop, full of all her past and current projects, as well as that invoice copy she needed to re-send to Madeline.<br><br>Dropping her paperwork onto the desk with an unceremonious crash, and tossing her purple peacoat onto the couch, Aislin settled into her seat, placed her coffee cup down and set to work. <br>With her luck, Madeline would probably mess up the invoice file so badly that she'd need to redo it from scratch. <br><hr>Before she knew it, her day that had begun at 5am had stretched on well into the afternoon, nearing two. The loud and slightly embarrassing grumbling in her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since breakfast and the now cold, half emptied coffee cup was doing her no favours. <br>With a stretch and a groan, she rose to her feet, bending her knees a bit to get the feeling back into her legs from sitting so long.<br>Shrugging her peacoat back on and adjusting the thin, black turtleneck beneath it, Aislin felt brave enough to face the weather.<br>Outside was cold, even for her standards. Not the normal, chilly, might-need-two-shirts cold, but the kind of bitter chill that crept into your bones and stayed there until spring arrived to thaw you out again. It was a hollow type of cold, one that Aislin rarely, if ever, enjoyed. <br><br>With a wave to Madeline on her way out and a quick message about taking a lunch break, Aislin was off. <br>With no particular craving in mind, Aislin stopped at a nearby cafe and grabbed a half-stale muffin, likely leftover from the mornings rush. With another coffee in hand, she took her muffin and headed out to the park adjacent to her office building.<br>Even in the biting chill of the icy air around her, Aislin took some small pleasure in the quiet serene atmosphere the park supplied. <br>Finding a vacant bench, Aislin took a seat and started on her muffin and coffee. After finishing her muffin and around halfway through her coffee, Aislin spotted something dark purple and square lodged between the seat and the back of the bench opposite hers. <br><br>Normally, Aislin knew best to leave well enough alone, but the striking contrast of dark purple against the brown wood was so eyecatching that she couldn't seem to ignore it.<br>When at last her curiosity had gotten the best of her, she stood, crossing the few spaces between the two benches and kneeling down to examined the lodged object.<br>It appeared to be a diary, or journal. Perhaps some kind of book? Hesitantly, she reached out and tugged it free of its makeshift hiding place. <br>Upon closer inspection it&nbsp; appeared to be a purple journal, with the colors turning out to be two varying shades of purple, a lighter and darker color, done in stripes across the cover. Upon opening the book she found that the pages were a light grey with swirling flower-like patterns along the edges, neatly lined for writing, but entirely blank. Apparently someone had purchased a journal, new by the look of the unbent spine and clean pages, and promptly forgotten it on the bench. <br>Too bad too, it was a really nice journal.<br>With a shrug, Aislin tucked the journal beneath her arm and began heading back to her office, no use leaving it out to be rained or snowed on. <br><hr>Back in the office, Aislin tossed the journal towards Madeline.<br>"I found this in the park. Place it in the lost and found, would you? I doubt anybody will come here looking for it, but you never know. If it was important enough, I'd go to a few nearby shops or buildings and ask for it."<br>"Placing it in the L and F! Done!" Madeline chirped happily as she slid the journal into the small basket beneath her desk where all the other lost and unclaimed items lived. <br><br>That finished, Aislin headed back up to her office to spend another few hours on pointless busy work her boss deemed fit to assign her. <br><hr>A few hours later Aislin slid her coat back on and gathered her reluctantly constructed files and paperwork, heading out for the day with about an hour of daylight still left in it.<br>As she neared the exit on the first floor, Madelines panicked voice called out.<br>"Aislin wait!"<br>With an internal groan, she turned, smiling at the blonde and asking what she needed.<br>"You forgot your journal!" She said, offering the now familiar purple diary to her.<br>"That's not mine, Madeline. I told you to toss it in the lost and found, remember?"<br>"I know but... I was looking through it, since it's such a nice shade of pink and all-"<br>"That's purple, Madeline." Aislin cut in, amazed by Madelines ditziness, yet again.<br>"That's definitely pink."<br>"Madeline, that's way too dark to be pink. It's clearly purple."<br>"Whatever! What I was trying to say is that, I was looking through it and saw that your name is in it. Are you sure it doesn't belong to you?"<br>Aislin scoffed. There was no way her name could be in that journal. She'd looked through it herself already, it was empty!<br>"Let me see that." She said, accepting the journal and opening to the inside cover page. Sure enough, there was her name, written in a dark purple ink, similar to the darker shade of the cover. As if that wasn't eerie enough, it appeared to be identical to her own handwriting, familiar loops, dips, curves and all.<br>"I... I didn't write that." Aislin said, visibly shaken.<br>"Oh come on! It matches your handwriting to a T! It's obviously yours. You've been working too hard, Aislin. You probably just forgot you wrote it in. Go get some rest."<br>"But Madeline-"<br>"Go! And take your pink journal with you!"<br>"It's <em>purple</em>." <br>"Goodnight, Aislin!" <br>With that, Madeline shooed her out the door and into the street, with the journal clutched tightly in her now stark white hands.&nbsp; <br>Puzzled and confused, Aislin made her way home, looking at the inside cover of the journal over and over again as she did, staring at the perfect replica of her name, written in an ink she didn't own in a journal that had never been hers. <br>Her name. How had it gotten her name in it?
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				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>persephone325</strong> on <strong>12-02-2013, 04:52:08</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100401191448/fatalframe/images/c/c2/Misaki_Asou1.png)</div>Misaki was grateful that she had finally gotten back home after her trip to Rogetsu Island. So much had happened there, and she was worried she wasn't going to make it back. But, she had found out so much. And she had recovered the memories she lost. Part of her wasn't so sure that was a good thing. She wondered if Madoka might have been right about going back. After all, she was killed by the spirits there...<br><br>"Madoka... I'm so sorry for making you go back." Misaki sighed as she sat down on her bed. She slipped off her house slippers and got under the blankets of her bed. Her head hit the soft cushion of the pillow and her mind wandered. She really began to question if seeking out her lost memories was the best decision. Was it really better to not know? She felt conflicted; as part of her felt at peace for knowing what had happened, yet the other part of her still had some questions. Had she put herself in danger now?<br><br>"No. No, it's fine." She convinced herself as she took a deep breath and rolled onto her side. "You're alright now. There's no use worrying about the past." With that, she fell asleep.<br><hr>The next morning, Misaki woke up and stretched in bed. She stood up and headed into the kitchen to get something to eat before going about her day. When she turned the corner, something caught her eye on the tea table. Something that had not been there the night before.<br><br>An aqua colored book.<br><br>Confused, Misaki slowly approached the book and picked it up. Her hands were a bit shaky. "Where...did this come from?" She wondered aloud. Her eyes suddenly widened. <em>Was someone in my house?!</em> The thought terrified her. It scared her more than what she had seen on Rogetsu...<br><br>Dropping the book, she searched around her house for any signs of an intruder. However, her search yielded no results. Misaki returned to the kitchen and sat down at the table. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was a diary of sorts. But she still wondered how on earth it got into her house. After all she had been through, Misaki eventually came to the conclusion that there had to be some sort of supernatural explanation. That's all she could think of. Especially now that she knew what could really be out there...
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				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DarkRose15</strong> on <strong>14-02-2013, 03:41:26</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/ed0cf5a0-35ab-4899-b813-6b898008d3ee_zps058f17ca.jpg)</div><br>Kaelyn sighed as she sat through another meeting. She didn't want to come to these....she didn't want to at all. But she had no choice, thanks to having a family wrought with mental illness. It was a very sore subject for her, and she tried to fight this at every turn. But she knew, deep down in her soul that these meetings were doing more good than anything else. Love or hate it, this was but one of several threads holding her sanity in check. Her doctor saw her attention fading for a bit and cleared his throat.<br><br>"Kaelyn......you need to stop doing that." he said sternly.<br><br>"Stop what? This is stupid! I'm not crazy!" she said, though in the back of her mind she heard a little giggle and a soft whisper. <em>Kaelyn yes you are....you are and one day you'll be long to us. Just like your mother..</em> She shook her head, refusing to acknowledge the subtle whisper. Her doctor stared at her worriedly. "Is it happening again?"<br><br>"Wha....no. Just had some hair in my eye." she said, lying. Her doctor sighed and sat the clipboard down and leaned in. "Kaelyn you're a strong girl. The fact you are able to hold on like you are is impressive. But you have to accept my help. You need to acknowledge what's happening and try to work with me ok?" <br><br>"Fine whatever.....can I go now?" she said, standing up with her purse and slinging it over her neck as she held the strap. She wanted to go out and take pictures today, somehow that always soothed her more than these pointless doctor's visits. No shrink could really understand her anyway. None of them believed her about ghosts and the supernatural. They thought it was part of her psychosis. Maybe it was, but she knew she wasn't out of her mind. She'd seen too many things for it to be "just in her head."<br><br>Her doctor sighed and rubbed his temples. "Yes you can but I'm going to tell you to do something and I want you to do it. Alright?" he said, his tone a mix of pleading and commanding. Kaelyn's shoulders sagged as she sat back down for a second. "What do you want me to do?"<br><br>"You like to take photos don't you?"<br>"Yeah....so?"<br>"I want you to keep a photo diary. I want you to take your hobby and use it to help us in our sessions. I know you aren't big on talking about things, but your photographs always seem to speak more than you do. Can you do that for me?" he asked.<br><br>Kaelyn chewed her lip thoughtfully, mulling it over. She did love taking photographs and truth be told she'd be more apt to pull out a photo book than she would to start a conversation unless it was a topic that just got her fired up. Like, in this case, photography would. "Fine." she said, moving to stand. "Now can I go?"<br><br>"Yes you can. And you're next appointment has already been set up. I'll see you in three weeks?" he said, trying to smile a bit.<br><br>Kaelyn tried to smile back. "See you in three weeks." she said, walking out of her psychologist's office. Another meeting down, but she still had more. She&nbsp; always felt upset at her family for "gifting" her with this possibility of losing her own mind. It wasn't fair....why did she have to have this too? She sighed, glad she had her camera with her as she waited at the nearby bus stop. She pulled out a book she'd purchased at a used book shop on local parks that were great for visiting and picture taking. Soon she heard the creaking of the bus as it pulled to a stop and she glumly got on board. At least it was close to the magic hour, so she could get a few good shots before she went home.<br><br>She took a seat close to the back, choosing to be away from people. Sometimes she sat closer but on days like this when she went for her weekly crazy check as she called it she often just wanted to be away from others. No one bothered her when she sat alone, but today she looked in the seat next to her. She saw what looked to be an old photo album or diary. She opened it up slowly, realizing it was indeed a diary filled with blank pages. <em>Who would have left this here...?</em>, she thought to herself, flipping through to look for a name.<br><br>There was none it would seem, and she flipped the book shut looking at the cover. It was a perfect shade of blue, matching her eyes. It was so strange but....it felt.....like it was hers. Like it was always hers. She swallowed hard. She wanted to leave it but she felt somehow that she'd already made a mistake simply by touching it. <br><br><em>It's just a diary....I can use it for photos. There's nothing weird about this, someone just left it.</em>, she thought to herself. She felt a little guilty, but it was perfect for putting small photos in. She could use this for her photo journal for her doctor's visits. <br><br><em>It's just a diary....it's not some creepy thing. It's just fine..</em>, she said to herself, soon calming down enough to slip the diary in her bag. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cosmo_ac</strong> on <strong>19-02-2013, 22:47:05</strong>
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				(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/6557dd01-d466-4b53-a243-f2aa3370203a_zpsec287b1f.jpg) <br><br>"Oh you mother fucker!"&nbsp; Duncan would have kicked the printer, if he had owned it.&nbsp; No, he would have German-suplexed the printer if he owned it. No, he would have taken a sledgehammer and used it as a pinote, then German-suplexed it, then kicked it, then...yeah, well, it wasn't his.&nbsp; It was the universities, and it, once again, was jammed.&nbsp; At least Duncan didn't have to be in class, this time.&nbsp; The last time, it had made him five minutes late to get to class because his essay had jammed, and he had needed to ask somebody to fix the bloody machine.&nbsp; Still, it was irritating as fuck.<br><br>15 minutes later, and Duncan had managed to get somebody to fix the machine, and managed to print out his essay.&nbsp; With a huff, he threw his library books back into his school bag and headed back for his dormitory room.&nbsp; He still had to go to the boxing club to workout, and do some more research.&nbsp; School wasn't easy, he had known that, but he hadn't expected to have to deal with the demonic printer from hell.&nbsp; He'd have to ask one of the librarians when they were going to replace it, because he was at the point these days where if he could get it for a few dollars, he would spend the money, just so he could kill his arch-enemy, and piss on the hole in the desert he buried it in.&nbsp; <br><br>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br><br>It was somewhere around 8 PM when Duncan stepped out of his shower, toweling himself off still.&nbsp; It had been a good workout at the gym, and he had really laid it into the heavy bag.&nbsp; He imagned that he'd be pretty good for his fight coming up in a couple of weeks from now, though he would have to be careful.&nbsp; Duncan was in good shape, but he felt his cardio could do a little better.&nbsp; Granted, not smoking might help that, but oh well.&nbsp; Duncan sat down in his chair after he had pulled on a pair of blue jeans and poured himself a shot of Canadian Club.&nbsp; He tossed it back, then turned on his computer with one hand while the other drew out a smoke from a pack resting on the wooden computer table.&nbsp; He took in a deep draw from the cigarette, then began fumbling in his school bag for his books.<br><br>Four books were soon on the table, which Duncan thought was odd, as he had only taken out three books from the library.&nbsp; Or at least he was pretty damn sure he had taken out three books from the library.&nbsp; Putting the three he knew of asside, Duncan picked up the forth book.&nbsp; What the hell was this?&nbsp; It didn't look like a library book, with it's black cover and back, not to meantion its size.&nbsp; A journal perhaps?&nbsp; Duncan leafed the book open, looking over the blank pages.&nbsp; Well, it didn't have a name on it.&nbsp; Perhaps somebody had accidently left it with Duncan's books?&nbsp; That would be pretty damn odd, but whatever.&nbsp; Duncan supposed it wasn't that big a deal.&nbsp; Duncan placed the book on the desk, a few inches away from the other books, and began opening his web browser to see what he could find in the libary database in relation to his studies.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MabFaerie</strong> on <strong>20-02-2013, 09:03:54</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/b36a2cbe-7ec2-4a0f-83c1-80b5a9177b34_zps94ff6f9e.jpg)</div><br>On the evening of the day that Aislin found the purple diary, her sleep was troubled by nightmares. <br>Every time she closed her eyes she could see a face lingering at the edge of her consciousness. A woman in a grey and green kimono, whispering inaudible words. <br>Fragments of sentences rushed at Aislin from every corner of her mind, but none of them ever made enough sense for her to fully decipher.<br><br><em>"...can't remember." </em>The woman in the Grey Kimono seemed to be getting closer, her bright, equally grey eyes were soft and imploring, she looked so young, and somehow, so afraid. <br><em>"give me back my..."</em>&nbsp; Her hands reached out towards Aislin, as if pleading, begging for something. But what?<br><em>"Please..."</em> The Kimono woman was so close, Aislin could hear her soft, ragged breath as she inched nearer and nearer. It was only as the Kimono woman closed the gap between them that Aislin finally heard the laughter. <br><br>Echoing all around, spreading out and reverberating back inward, a sound like madness and sorrow amplified a thousand times over. The woman was upon her then, those once sad grey eyes now stricken with madness, solid black and emptied of life. A smile played onto her lips, as if she had finally found something she had been searching for, for a very long time. The smile spread farther, almost inhumanly so as the laughter died down to nothing. Silence hung in the air for a moment, before the woman whispered, softly, almost tenderly so.<br><em>"I remember you..." </em><br><br>With a start, Aislin shot up, her breathing fast and shallow as a cold sweat ran down her back. She gasped for air, her lungs straining, as if she had just run a marathon in her sleep. Gagging slightly, Aislin coughed and sputtered until her lungs were full of air once more and her breathing had calmed itself down. <br>Shakily, she climbed out of bed, her eyes straining against the darkness, fumbling towards the wall switch. When at last she'd found it, she flicked it upwards, blinking in pain as light flooded the room and shocked her eyes. <br>Snatching her glasses off of the beside nightstand, Aislin took in the sight of her room as her vision adjusted to the light. The bedroom was simple, clean, empty really. There was her bed, with its now rather ruffled white sheets and blue floral blankets, propped against the leftmost wall. <br><br>A tiny, scarcely used white desk rested in the opposite corner of the bed, currently piled half-height with film, photographs and various camera parts. If Aislin would ever take the time to clean it off, she was sure she'd be able to use it properly. She almost was half certain that there was still probably a working desk underneath that mess.<br>Maybe.<br><br>Beside the bed was the previously mentioned small, white nightstand, empty save for her now vacant glasses case and a coffee cup that looked as if it hadn't seen a sink in a few days now.<br>Tucked in the corner nearest the door was her dresser and at the foot of that rested her laundry basket, with fresh clothes still waiting to be put away.&nbsp; <br>Everything was just as she'd left it. Everything was as it should be. No creepy kimono-clad women claiming to remember her here. <br><br>With a quiet sigh of relief, Aislin left her bedroom and crossed the few sqaure feet of the studio apartments living room to enter the kitchen. <br>Really she was being generous even calling it that. The living room and kitchen were divided by a shift in the flooring from burgundy carpet to bare checkered tile and little else. <br>Her living room consisted of a cream colored couch pressed against the wall her bedroom shared, opposite two tall windows that let in a fair bit of light but never seemed to open quite as high as she'd like them to and more empty space than could be good for a person. <br>A very expensive and scarcely used television set was latched into the wall opposite the couch, it was something that her ex had convinced her to buy and it rarely, if ever, saw any use. Aislin had considered it a waste of time and money, much like the ex had been, but she certainly wasn't going to let him have it, even so. It was expensive and non-refundable, after all.<br><br>Two bookshelves lined the walls on either side of the television, stacked high and packed tight with books of varying colors, shapes and sizes, from topics ranging as far as Shakespeare's poetry to Marjane Satrapis Persepolis. Books, along with photography, were Aislins not-so-secret passion. Normal escapism could be found just as easily in food, caffeine,&nbsp; alcohol or drugs. But Aislin? She preferred literature as her vice of choice.<br>Across from the television, nearing the couch was a long, thin, black glass counter-top coffee table, where stacks of mail and that weird purple journal now sat. Looking at that diary for too long made Aislin shiver. She needed to concentrate on something else for a change.<br>&nbsp;<br>Turning her focus away from the living room, Aislin scanned the kitchen. It was decent, if modest, with just a stove, fridge, a few cabinets and some counter space with a double sink stuck smack dab in the middle of them. She had a mini microwave that she hardly ever used and a coffee machine that could stand for a cleaning as much as its cups could. <br>The neon light flashing on the stove informed her that it was half past three in the morning. An excellent time for coffee, if there ever was one.<br>Okay, so maybe caffeine was a bit of a vice of hers too but it was probably less likely to kill her than drugs and she was happy enough to settle for that.<br><br>Rummaging around in her cabinets, Aislin procured a clean coffee mug, some instant coffee mix, powdered creamer and then set to work. <br>In no time at all, she had a hot cup of coffee nearly burning her hands despite it's supposedly heat-resistant mug. <br>Shuffling the few feet over to the couch and plopping down, she set her coffee mug on the thin glass table, beside a small stack of unopened bills and a few old letters. Her eyes were drawn yet again to that diary. How had it gotten her name in it? Who had been able to imitate her writing so perfectly? It just didn't make sense! Why would anyone do such a thing?<br><br>Frustrated, Aislin picked up the diary again, intent on pointing out some kind of flaw in the writing style of her name, if only to ease her own mind and deploy an argument able to convince Madeline that she hadn't written it herself.<br>As she tugged the diary open once more, a small, barely audible gasp escaped from her throat.<br>There was more writing.<br>On the very first page, in the same delicate swirl that was a mimicry of her own handwriting, were the words "I remember you." Beside the words, scrawling up along the entire length of the page, was a drawing of flowers. Penciled in, in what looked like blue colored chalk and black ink, were delicate, sprawling Myosotis flowers. Otherwise knows as Forget-me-nots. <br><br>Shakily, Aislin tossed the diary away as if it were hotter than the coffee she'd just poured. <br>"What's going on..." She whispered, the fear she'd felt before in her nightmare gripping her heart again, tighter now.<br>"What's happening to me...?" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>persephone325</strong> on <strong>25-02-2013, 07:02:01</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100401191448/fatalframe/images/c/c2/Misaki_Asou1.png)</div>The morning and most of the afternoon went by smoothly. Misaki went about her business and cleaned up her bedroom a bit.<br><br>But the diary was still prevalent in her mind. She couldn't shake the thought of it. What was it about the beautiful aqua colored book that intrigued her so?<br><br>Later in the afternoon, Misaki sat down at her kitchen table and stared at the journal. It was almost as if she were having a staring contest with it.<br><br>Hesitantly, and with a shaky hand, Misaki reached out and took the book in her grasp. A familiar smell surrounded her. It smelled like... Rogetsu Island. But how could that be possible?<br><br>Misaki became more curious and opened the journal. The inside cover had her name on it... In <em>her own handwriting</em>. But...how? Misaki was <em>positive</em> she had never come across this journal before in her life. How could it be hers?<br><br>But there was no denying it. It was her own beautiful cursive writing, staring her in the face. Becoming more intrigued, Misaki turned to the first page and found there was writing already there. Once again, it was her own.<br><br><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="bbc_font">Ever since I came back to Rogetsu, I've felt like I'm so close to remembering what happened to me when I was a child. Madoka seems really scared. I should make sure we don't get separated.<br><br>I blacked out. I saw a woman who I vaguely remembered. When I reached out to touch her... Everything went dark. Madoka is missing. I can't find her!<br><br>This camera... I brought it from home. It had been passed down in my family for generations. How did it get on the floor?<br><br>What is this music? I remember...pain. Why does it hurt when I try to remember? My head...<br><br>Madoka! I found her... But I was too late. She has become a spirit now. It's my fault... I shouldn't have brought her here... Please forgive me.<br><br>Sakuya... I remember her now. We were... Why wouldn't they let me see her? And the doll... Miya... I need to find her!<br><br>This smell... I remember it... When I was a child... I was here! Miya! She should be here!<br><br>I found her! I won't ever forget you again... I promise.</span><br><br>Misaki couldn't close the book fast enough. She pushed it away as if the words insulted her. Those words written there... They were her thoughts. They were her thoughts when she was on Rogetsu... But how? It was as if she was re-living the incident all over again.<br><br>"Wakarimasen... What is happening...?"<br><hr><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Translation</div><div class="spoiler_body">Wakarimasen - I don't understand/I don't know<br>In this instance, I'm using the former translation.</div></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DarkRose15</strong> on <strong>25-02-2013, 23:39:30</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/ed0cf5a0-35ab-4899-b813-6b898008d3ee_zps058f17ca.jpg)</div><br><br>Kaelyn had been more active as of late. The past few weeks had been a blur of creativity and she'd never felt so inspired. Her camera came with her every single day and when inspiration hit her, she would break it out.<br><br>Click, Click, Click. One of her favorite sounds, the sound of a camera capturing an image.<br><br>&nbsp;She couldn't remember a time when she'd felt so connected. But the strangest thing of all was that she also hadn't left the strange diary she'd found on the boss either. It was always with her, always there even though she had to take her photos to be developed and couldn't immediately put them away. It was just......it had to be with her. Leaving it at home just wasn't an option. She'd made certain there was enough room in her roll-along backpack to keep it safely stashed away.<br><br>Today was another day and she was at a park, sitting on a bench looking up at the sky. The clouds looked dark, a storm must be coming and the chill in the air simply confirmed it. She wondered if it would be rain or snow. It wasn't cold enough for snow. She sighed, praying for rain.<br><br>She turned her head a little and looked at a tree nearby. It was an old tree and had the look of the type of tree one would see in a horror movie. The kind that could easily come to life. It was gnarled and twisted. <em>The light.......I don't know if the light is good enough....</em>, she thought, looking at her watch. It was almost the golden hour, the last hour of daylight and she frowned, hoping there'd be a break in the cloud cover. She quickly got her camera out and made sure as always that the lens cap was off and began to adjust the settings and shutter speed on her camera. After making sure everything was ready, she started to take a few test shots to see if she liked it.<br><br>Click, Click Click.<br><br>She felt a sudden sensation in the back of her mind, or was it an actual caress? Like someone poking her. She turned her head to frown at whomever it was, but saw no one. She turned back.<br><br>Click, Click, Click.<br><br>She turned her head again to check that her bag was still beside her. She didn't need to unzip to check that the diary was there, she knew it was. She could just feel it. <em>I can't feel it....that's crazy. I just remember I put it in there. That's all...</em>, she thought, shaking her head a little. A subtle laugh was echoing through her mind and she wished she could stab it.<br><br>Click, Click, Click.<br><br><em>Thank God!</em>, she thought, smiling when she got what she'd asked for. The clouds broke and the last few rays of golden light came shining through, giving the perfect amount of light for a great shot of the withered, ancient tree. She knelt down on the ground to get a few shots of the twisted branches against the dusky sky.<br><br>Click, Click, Click.<br><br>A few more before she stood, moving around the tree. Something about it was just captivating her, but she knew she was running out of time. <br><br>Click, Click, Click.<br><br><em>Dammit all.....</em>, she huffed, soon realizing she was going to lose the light as the cloud cover reformed, and she heard a low rumble coming from above. The storm was almost here. She needed to get home so she wouldn't get caught in downpour. She couldn't risk damage to the diary....wait, her camera. Or the diary. She quickly packed up and ran to the bus stop, just barely making it. "Whew!" she said aloud, managing a bit of a smile to the bus driver as she went to sit down. <br><br>She knew she would have some marvelous shots as she pulled out the diary/photo album she'd been using. Her psychologist had been praising her for both her creativity and telling a story about her feelings without her having to divulge it with words. It was helping her to relax too, but she always had that gnawing feeling that it was a temporary fix. A band aid. Not that she wanted to lose her mind.<br><br>But this time, as she flipped through the diary she saw a photo that she didn't remember taking. She looked closer, trying to figure it out. It was an odd photo, and where in the world had she managed to take it?<br><br>An old mansion was looming out of a thick mist. It was definitely not a traditional western style mansion...no. This was very distinct. It looked like Japanese architecture. <em>What the.....</em>, she said, her brows furrowing. The picture was even more bizarre in that it flowed with her other pictures. It was her style of photography, like it'd always been there. Had it always been there? <br><br>Click, Click, Click. Her camera was away, but she suddenly heard the sound of clicking in her mind as if she were still taking pictures.<br><br><em>N...no....no stop it......not now!</em>, she thought, feeling herself starting to panic. The subtle voice started to grow a little louder in her mind. She didn't want to lose it, she didn't want to lose it in public. She was going to hold on. She started to take a few deep breaths. Surely she took this somewhere. Maybe at an exhibit? Maybe she'd just moved in and took a picture with permission? Yes....yes that had to be it. <em>Get it together Kaelyn...</em><br><br>But that made no sense either. Where had this picture come from!?<br><br>She kept taking deep breaths. She closed the diary tightly, shoving it back in her bag. <br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cosmo_ac</strong> on <strong>26-02-2013, 00:45:54</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/6557dd01-d466-4b53-a243-f2aa3370203a_zpsec287b1f.jpg)<br><br>Duncan woke up early the next morning.&nbsp; Earlier then he had wanted to, but he still had to put the finishing touches on his essay.&nbsp; He hated waking up early, but you did what you had to do.&nbsp; Going to sit in front of his computer, and turning it on, his attention was once more drawn to the black book.&nbsp; He still didn't know how the hell it got into his bag.&nbsp; He picked it up and began flipping through the pages, thinking he might see something he missed the first time around.&nbsp; He didn't have to flip very far.<br><br>Right behind the cover of the book, there was his name written their in red ink.&nbsp; Not only was it written their, but it was written in his handwriting.&nbsp; "What the fuck?"&nbsp; Duncan puzzled, his attention to his screen going out the window as he sat back, holding the book a good arms length away and looking at the writing, as if it might change if he held the book differently.&nbsp; If he had found his name in the book, that would be weird enough, but he could just chalk that up to somebody else writing it and him not noticing it last night.&nbsp; Seeing his own handwriting was another matter entirely.&nbsp; <br><br>Duncan flipped through the rest of the book quickly, and found no more writing in the book.&nbsp; Just his name, and only his name was in the book.&nbsp; Duncan's eyes then drifted to the near empty bottle of Canadian Club whiskey.&nbsp; How much had he drank last night?&nbsp; He certainly didn't remember writing in the book, but maybe he did and he just didn't remember?&nbsp; That must have been it.&nbsp; It was the only logical reason for his name being written in the book.&nbsp; With the mystery solved, Duncan put the journal back down, and began to work on his essay.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Teo Torriatte</strong> on <strong>28-02-2013, 15:39:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/3d87bccc-3262-498c-9304-e5ce4bd1ac06_zps54265354.jpg)</div>"Guilty!" the man sitting behind the high judge's bench shouted down at Cassandra Vernier, who was sitting all by herself in the gallery, with a bewildered look on her pale, slightly chubby but feather soft features.<br><br>"Guilty, guilty, guilty!" he repeated over and over, almost like some kind of tantrum instead of the proper decorum to be expected from a judge. But this was no judge, no... Cassie knew exactly who this man was. He was Malcolm Renault, a dark figure from a part of her past that she had been spending the last two years trying desperately to forget. And in the waking world, she had been fairly successful in doing so, as much as could be expected given what he had done to her. But in her nightmares... not so much. His long black hair, deep emerald eyes, thin sneering lips, pointed hawk-like nose, in her dreams she saw him over and over again, each time seemingly more caricatured than the last, and making her wonder how she had ever been attracted to him.<br><br>As her teacher, her principal, her parole officer, a rude customer, an overbearing manager, and now her judge, of all things, he seemed to be omnipresent no matter what she was dreaming about at the time. She tried to tune him out as he prattled on about her trangressions this, her crimes against humanity that, she knew he wasn't real so why should she even care? That was, until he literally threw the book at her, a small tome with a leathery cover the color of silvery platinum that just happened to match her preferred hair color and also just happened to hit her square between the eyes, which certainly did regain her attention.<br><br>"So I sentence you to..." his voice trailed off and that sneer came back, with more than a hint of mischief lighting up those striking emerald eyes. "Oh dear Cassie... wouldn't you like to know? We had <em>so</em> much fun last night, maybe I will just claim seconds..."<br><br>"It wasn't last night! It was two years ago! I'm done with you..."<br><br>"Oh no, the fun is just beginning," he insisted, before a burly officer seemed to appear beside her. "Take her away, she needs some time to think about the consequences of her actions."<br><br>"<em>My</em> actions? <em>You</em> are the one who..." but she didn't get a chance to finish as she was dragged out of the empty courtroom and unceremoniously tossed into a dank cell that didn't really seem to have any connection to where she had just been taken from, but in her dream it seemed to flow well enough. <em>Fuck this, I'm waking up,</em> she thought with a surge of determination, and she was able to do just that.<br><br>She awoke with a start, bolting up into a sitting position as she clenched her hands tightly into trembling fists, shaking her head as beads of sweat dripped from her forehead and the evenly cut platinum bangs that hovered just above her deep blue eyes. Another lucid dream, damn it why couldn't she just forget her dreams like most everyone else did? And why did it have to come on the night before she had a major research project due? It had seemed so real, yet thankfully she knew it wasn't, that she hadn't really faced him again. It was all in her subconscious, all part of her attempt to struggle with a betrayal that had cut her so deep she was still trying to recover and move on, two years later.<br><br>None of it had been real, that was, except for the small silvery platinum book which rested on her nightstand, right next to her once again wholly unnecessary alarm clock. She noticed it as she went to turn off her alarm- no sense in possibly waking her roommate when she was already awake, herself. But that book... she <em>knew</em> it hadn't been there the night before, in fact she had never seen it before it had figured into her dream. But there it was, and for the life of her, she had no explanation- logical, magical or otherwise- for how it might have gotten there. She was actually a firm believer in supernatural phenomena, had actually taken part in a few herself, but there were certain lines that weren't crossed. Physical objects just didn't cross over from a dream into reality... or did they?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashena</strong> on <strong>01-03-2013, 15:12:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Suggestions/9f0acbb3-291e-469f-880c-8fc803fb7a89_zps09e52d93.jpg)</div>&nbsp; <br>Name: Kassil Valewalker<br>Where: Starbucks<br>Thinking: Confused about the notebook.<br>=========================================================================================================================================================<br><br>The bell rang class was over. 12:33 Her daily ritual had started and yet she was not fully looking forward to it. Reaching forward Kassil felt around the top of the desk feeling for the two books she had upon the desk. As her thumb traced the outline she placed her fingers on the top and slid it to the bottom of the desk to pick it up. Repeating the process for the other book Kassil would place them both in an over the shoulder bag. Her right hand reached in to feel around for the plastic sheets she had made up. Each one had holes punched in them creating a pattern many knew as braille. She could tell where in her bag each book would need to be placed in order to find them again for later use, that was the one thing anyone could say about Kassil. For being blind she was well kept and extremely organized. She had to be, her brain was really the only thing she had going for her. At least so far.<br><br>The books were back in there resting place and she had pulled a small white tube out of her bag, there was a red tip at the end. Upon pulling the tip Kassil was able to extend the tube which now had been showing it was collapsible; as the stick was long enough to reach the ground a foot in front of her. Flicking her wrist back and forth she was able to move the stick just out side of her own width, which would help her determine if anyone or anything was in the way of her walking. To Kassil the world was almost a numbers game... Six steps to the right&nbsp; the door to leave the class, twelve steps forward two to the right and nine straight and she would hit the top of the steps to head down the stairs. Counting, it was how she knew when to turn and how far to go. Of course she used other methods as well such as smelling the food to the café. That was an easy one. If all else failed asking for help was not beneath her. She had her pride but there come's to a point when everyone needs help, so to her it was not all that bad. <br><br>The stick collides against the railing of the stairs and the wall on the other side, she was on the right track and so far all was good. Up a head she knew she should be encountering a glass door impeding her way to the outside. Pulling her cane in she would reach her hand out looking for the push handle. The look of confusion must have been evident for one passing student placed her hand on Kassil's shoulder her voice soft as though whispered. <strong>"The door is being held open today by a stopper."</strong> Kassil smiled and nodded <strong>"Thank you, I uh"</strong> she stopped realizing she really did not need to explain herself. The student rubbed the girls shoulder before removing her hand entirely. <strong>"See you in biochemistry 304 later"</strong> She said much louder than she had the comment before. <br><br>Once out the door it was pretty much a straight shot to Starbucks. She would pass three streets and a bread shop, the smell was the indication that she had arrived. However as fate would have it she was stopped once more. She could hear the footsteps behind her they had been at a jogging pace at the very least. <strong>"Wait. Hey Kassil you forgot your notebook" </strong>&nbsp; Her brows furrowed in confusion again, she did not own a notebook there must have been a mistake. <strong>"I'm sorry, I... don't own a notebook. That and if I dropped one I would have heard it I think you have the wrong person."</strong> giving a slightly uncomfortable laugh Kassil turned to leave only to be stopped once more. <strong>"Well, I mean. Your the only one on this campus that I know can read braille and this... Its got bumps and I only thought"</strong> That was all Kassil needed to hear; she reached out her hand waiting for the book to be placed in her hand. <br><br>The cover was smooth and felt glossy this was no ordinary notebook it was like a diary or at least some fancy book to write or keep a journal in. It was not until she opened the front cover that she felt the braille. She traced her thumb over the bumps four or five times. It was her name. Kassil had a case which had a stamp for every letter of the alphabet and knew there bumps like she knew herself. She could have sworn in front of a judge the letters were taken directly from that case but she knew she had not stamped anything lately. It was impossible, or it was a trick. <strong>"Thanks I... Must have dropped it"</strong> It was a lie but the pause was far to long not to be uncomfortable and the situation was clearly pointing in that realization. The only thing she thought was something was up and she was not about to let it go. Strange occurrences did not happen, everything happened for a reason. The notebook was slid into her bag, she would remember to pull it out and run her fingers over it again; she knew something was missing but what. She was not yet sure. <br><br>It was not that long before the smell of fresh bread hit her. She was back on her normal schedule but yet so much was already out of place. As her cane hit the edge of the door she pulled it back and reached forward to open the door. <strong>"Oh there she is, your five minutes late I almost thought you weren't coming" </strong> The friendly voice of the cashier called out placing a cup loudly on the top of the counter enough so Kassil could hear it and move in that direction. One hand reached into her bag pulling out her wallet while the other reached out for her coffee. "<strong>No no, I was just held up is all."</strong> They both shared a laugh the woman taking out enough change to cover the bill. <strong>"Your table is waiting for you. Have a great day"</strong> Kassil gave the woman a friendly smile, or at least where she thought the woman was. With that she turned around and headed out to the table. Taking one of the seats Kassil sat down pulling out the diary placing it on the table. Her fingers reached for the pages once more to confirm what she already knew to be true.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MabFaerie</strong> on <strong>02-03-2013, 23:57:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/b36a2cbe-7ec2-4a0f-83c1-80b5a9177b34_zps94ff6f9e.jpg)</div>The days that followed Aislin and her encounter with the Diary felt... strange, at best. At times they seemed to span what felt like weeks, only to be hours. Other moments passed in the blink of an eye, Monday became Sunday which dragged into Tuesday and hopped to Friday. Nothing felt normal anymore. It was if time as she knew it was distorting and dragging her with it.<br><br>Her dreams were filled with ominous visions and nightmares of the kimono-clad woman. The laughter of the eerie female figure always echoing through her dreams, interrupted only by the quiet whispers of memories she swore she'd never had. It felt like that woman was everywhere Aislin went. She could see her out of the corner of her eyes, watching, waiting. And that manor... that manor she'd seen in her dreams...&nbsp; It was so dark and forlorn. Why did she feel so scared every time she entered it in her sleep? It was just a bad dream... that place wasn't real.... and yet it felt so-<br><br>"Aislin, you look exhausted. Are you getting enough rest?" Madelines voice cut through Aislins troubled thoughts, causing her to snap back to focus. Madeline stood, leaning against the door of Aislins office, with a coffee in one hand. <br>Aislin inhaled a deep breath of air, taking a moment to get her bearings. She was at work, in her office. The kimono woman was nowhere to be seen. The manor was gone. Everything was as it should be.<br>"Yeah... sorry." She said after a moment, "I'm... I'm just tired. You called it. I'm not getting enough sleep." Aislin forced an apologetic smile, which Madeline seemed to buy easily enough.<br>"Well, maybe you should take off early today. Go get some dearly needed rest. I can handle it from here." She assured Aislin while taking a few steps into her office to offer her the coffee she'd had.<br>"Thanks." Aislin accepted the warm beverage and stood, her mind still reeling from the torturous thoughts she'd just had.<br>"Come on, you're doing it again. You get this weird, intensely worried look on your face and just space out for a while. Go home. Get some rest already." Aislin nodded her consent but her mind was still somewhere else. <br><br>Before she knew it, she was back in her apartment, the coffee cup nowhere to be seen and her work bag tossed onto the couch. <br>Could she even fully recall the trip back home? And when had she stopped to drink the coffee? Why couldn't she remember?!<br><br>With a groan, she collapsed onto the couch beside her bag, the room seeming to spin slightly as she did. What was going on? Ever since she found that diary, everything had felt so wrong! <br><em>I remember you...</em><br>With a startled and short lived scream, Aislin bolted up, spinning in place to try and find the source of the voice. Where was she?! How did she get here?!<br>Aislin, like a woman possessed, moved from room to room of her tiny little apartment, trying to find where the sound had come from. <br><em>"the... tr...ed... to... ke...e... forget..." </em>More words now. Broken up, as if an old record player was repeating them back to Aislin.<br><em>"...b...ow...could I?" </em>Along with the strange words was another sound, grainy, almost inaudible. Was it chanting?<br>The longer it went on, the more panicked Aislin became. Where <em>WAS </em>it? <br><br>At last, Aislin located the noise. It was coming from the closet beside the bathroom. The closet that was shut and locked. <br>The closet door had a habit of creaking open on its own due to loose hinges, so Aislin normally kept it locked to avoid bumping into the open door in the middle of the night. Why was there a noise coming from a closet that she hadn't opened in days, possibly weeks? What was in there? <br><br>With trembling hands, she unlocked the door, holding it shut for a moment while trying to regain her composure and settle her nerves. <br>When at last she could wait no longer, she pulled the door open, tensed and ready to face whatever was inside...<br><br>Rather anticlimactically, nothing happened.<br><br>Exhaling, she looked around, still hearing the staticy, grainy noise from before.&nbsp; After moving a few sheets and other odds&amp;ends around, she discovered the source. <br>A small radio sat on the middle shelf, obscured by various household amenities. Pushing those aside, she picked up the tiny radio, hearing the voice much clearer now. <br>"They wanted me to forget. So I tried my best to forget... I wanted to do what was right. What was <em>needed</em> to be right, at least... It's just that... no matter how hard I try... I remember you..." Shivering, Aislin turned the radio off with a flick of the small, nearly rusted switch on its side. As silence fell, she instantly felt calmer, her thoughts were clearer, she could actually think for a change.<br>"How did you get here?" She asked herself as she shut the closet, re-locked it and then headed back to her seat on the couch with the radio in hand.<br><br>The radio itself looked very, very old. It was comprised of mostly black metal and looked rusted all over. It had strange symbols lining its edges and couldn't have been much larger than breadbox.&nbsp; It was definitely not something that had ever belonged to her and she'd certainly never seen it before now.<br>Turning it over in her hands, she looked for where the batteries might be, wondering how old they were and if they posed a risk at leaking at this point. <br>Confused, she found that there was no battery holder. It didn't even look like it had a plug either. How could the radio have been running without batteries or a charge of any kind? A radio doesn't run on air!<br><br>Running her hands over the backside of the radio, she felt a panel that seemed to slide away as she applied pressure to it. Assuming this must be the battery holder, she pushed the bit of old, worn metal aside and looked for the batteries. <br>Instead of finding batteries however, she found a very pale green stone instead, flickering dimly with an unknown light. <br><br>"What... is this?" Reaching in, she grasped the small stone and extracted the tiny jade piece from the radio. Confused, she angled it upwards towards the light so she could examine it up close. <br>"A stone? Why would there be a stone inside this radio? How did this radio even get here? And that voice... the woman from my dream..."<br><br>Aislin shivered, placing the stone beside the radio on the coffee table and standing up nervously. She paced a bit in her living room, wracking her brain in a vain attempt to make sense of the days events in comparison to all the other odd happenings that had been going on as of late.<br><br>"That diary... the nightmares... this strange radio with the stone inside it... what's going on? Why does everything feel so... so wrong?" <br>Casting a glance at the radio one last time, Aislin moved back towards her bedroom, unable to spend a single moment longer in the same room as that radio, let alone the diary, which she had kept in a spot on her bookshelf as of late. <br><br>"I don't know what to do anymore... am I... going crazy?" She whispered aloud, tossing herself onto her bed and curling up into a ball. What other crazy occurrence was in store? What other madness would she have to suffer through next? Why couldn't everything just go back to normal again? <br>Why did she ever pick up that diary in the first place? Why...<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Teo Torriatte</strong> on <strong>03-03-2013, 17:07:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/3d87bccc-3262-498c-9304-e5ce4bd1ac06_zps54265354.jpg)</div>At first, Cassandra had actually heralded the appearance of that strange diary as a boon, as that seemed to mark the moment when her nightmares had finally stopped. It still didn't make any sense how the small platinum tome had gotten there in the first place, but if she didn't have to face Renault anymore, she almost didn't even care. Her sleep had become more regular, even her roommate seemed happy that she hadn't woken up in the middle of the night for over a week now. Things were finally starting to look up, she was finally able to concentrate on her studies(although she had still failed that last research paper) and she was even thinking about maybe joining her school's photography club. But it wasn't too long before things started to get even stranger.<br><br>One night, about a week since finding the diary, she was hanging out with Elaine, her roommate, in the common area where they both watched TV and played videogames together. Cassie was wearing her favorite teddy, made of silk and the same color as her hair(and the book), while the pretty and petite, dark-haired girl was lounging back, wearing only a tee shirt and her silky white panties, with a Dual Shock 3 in her hands as she stared intently at the screen. Suddenly she turned to Cassie and tilted her head, "You know, maybe it <em>was</em> really some evil spirit and not Malcolm that forced his way inside you," she remarked as casually as if she might have been imparting some tip regarding her admittedly poor Tekken skills.<br><br>"Wha?..." Cassie's eyes widened, "what the hell? Where the fuck did that come from?!?" she glared angrily at Elaine. Never mind the fact that she hadn't even mentioned anything about that night to another living soul. "How the hell did you..."<br><br>But Elaine seemed to persist, taken only slightly aback by the intensity of the other girl's response. "What do you mean, where did it come from? You fall for that throw every time I come up and do it. I don't even have to chicken it, because you've never learned to escape it. It's fairly simple to do..." she nodded sagely.<br><br>Cassandra's eyes widened, a perplexed expression on her slightly rounded features, "Wait no, that's not what you were..." she shook her head as Elaine looked at her like she was crazy. "Didn't you just... wait you were telling me about Tekken?"<br><br>The other girl nodded, "Yup. Just trying to give you a few hints so you can put up a better fight. If you don't mind me saying..."<br><br>The Canadienne just giggled nervously, now that she wasn't even sure she hadn't just been hearing things. "Oh I don't mind. I just... well... ah its nothing. Thanks for the advice, Elaine."<br><br>"Oh sure, not a problem. Anytime, really. You know, I've got another piece of advice for you, while I'm in the mood to hand out sage wisdom," she smiled almost smugly. Cassie just nodded for the other girl to continue, which she did. "You know how you kind of bombed that last research paper? Well... if you were to spend half the time studying as you did scribbling in that new journal of yours, maybe you could pass the next one."<br><br>Cassie did another double take, now actively wondering if she was hearing things again. "Wait... was that another piece of advice about Tekken?"<br><br>"No, I was talking about your obsession with that diary. What is it with that thing, anyway?"<br><br>Cassandra was flabbergasted, "I've never even opened the thing since it... erm... since I got it. I'm not sure what you are... fine, I'll go get it and show you. It doesn't even have a single word in it." Without letting her roommate reply, she hopped up to her feet and ran into her room, grabbing the diary and bringing it back out into the living room.<br><br>She set it in front of Elaine and opened it up. "See...?"<br><br>"Mhmm I sure do. I see that you have spent way too much time writing in that thing."<br><br>"What do you...!" she glanced down, and sure enough there was page after page of furious scribbling, in penmanship that definitely seemed to be Cassie's own, but... how? She couldn't remember having written a single word in there? But it was all there, everything from her time in the coven, that horrible night with her high priest and then all the effort she had put into getting as far away from that moment in both real space and in head space as well, to varying degrees of success and/or failure. "This doesn't make any sense!"<br><br>Elaine just nodded, "You're telling me. And no, before you ask, I didn't actually read it. I just opened it because I was worried about you, but I couldn't bring myself to actually spy on your personal life. That's some really fierce handwriting, though. Some real pain and emotion behind it, I would be willing to guess. If you ever wanted to talk about it..."<br><br>Cassie snatched up the diary and clutched it possessively, "No! I don't want to talk about anything!" she was shaking like a leaf, trying to make sense of everything that seemed to be happening. "Just... leave me the fuck alone!" she blurted out, trying to hold off the tears as she stormed off and shut herself in her room for the rest of the evening. Sleep came sooner or later, once again nightmare free, although she was starting to feel like the waking world was becoming even more of one.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cosmo_ac</strong> on <strong>04-03-2013, 04:05:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/6557dd01-d466-4b53-a243-f2aa3370203a_zpsec287b1f.jpg)<br><br>Duncan was waiting in line for coffee at one of the local campus Starbucks.&nbsp; He wasn't a big fan of Starbucks coffee to be honest, but he needed some serious caffein, and he didn't want to drink an energy drink.&nbsp; Those things were just garbage in liquid form.&nbsp; Not to mention, not the safest drink in the world for a person, since they didn't exactly seem to be well regulated, or so the news stories said.<br><br>As he was waiting in line, he noticed Kassil pass by.&nbsp; He didn't really know her-know her.&nbsp; He just knew her name, and the fact that she went to a class or two of his.&nbsp; That, and she was pretty cute looking.&nbsp; Well, cute might be an understatement.&nbsp; Beautiful might have been a better description for it.&nbsp; However, he didn't know much about her, and hadn't really had a reason to talk to her.&nbsp; And of course, there was also the fact that she was blind.&nbsp; It wasn't like Duncan had anything against blind people, or anything like that, but the fact was that being with a blind person would be different then being with a person who could see.&nbsp; How different, Duncan didn't know, but he was sure it would be different, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to try and venture down that road.&nbsp; At least not yet, anyway.&nbsp; <br><br>Finally the line moved forward, and ten minutes (or what felt like ten minutes) later, Duncan had bought his coffee and was heading towards his class.&nbsp; He already knew he was probably going to be late.&nbsp; Still, he wasn't looking foreward to the reaming out he would be getting by showing up late to the class, and frantically ran towards the building, drinking his coffee as best he could as he did so, and probably giving his tongue a third degree burn in the process.&nbsp; Just as he was turning a corner, somebody popped up in the way.&nbsp; Seems somebody else had decided to walk around the same corner as Duncan had at the exact same time.&nbsp; <br><br>Boxing reflexes kicking in, Duncan managed to avoid the young man, but in doing so his bag contents spilled unto the ground.&nbsp; "Sorry, sorry.&nbsp; Shit!"&nbsp; Duncan quickly appologized to the guy before he began to scoop his fallen books back into his bag.&nbsp; It only took a few moments, but he noticed that the black journal from before was there with the rest of his books.&nbsp; He must have put it in there with the rest of his books without thinking, and in he sleep deprived state, that was entirely possible.&nbsp; The book had fallen so that it laid open, face down with its spine&nbsp; upwards.&nbsp; Duncan picked it up and was about to put it in his bag when he noticed something.&nbsp; Red ink?&nbsp; Opening the book up, Duncan was shocked to see that there was writing in the book, and not only that, but on the first page, with writing that matched his own.&nbsp; <br><br>"Ok...this is getting too creepy."&nbsp; All desire from rushing to class evaperating, Duncan began to read the writing.&nbsp; It was written in the first person, and it detailed what had happened the night before.&nbsp; "How the fuck...?"&nbsp; Duncan could see how he might have, in a drunken stuper, written his name in the Journal, but this was too detailed.&nbsp; Too exact and clear-headed, not to mention well written, for it to be something he did in a drunken state and not remember it.&nbsp; Something was going on here, and Duncan didn't have a clue what it was.<br><br>Duncan would have probably continued to ponder about the book, when he noticed the time on his wristwatch.&nbsp; He wasn't sure what the hell was going on, but that didn't change the fact he had a class to get to.&nbsp; Throwing the book back in his bag, Duncan got to his feet and hurried to class.&nbsp; Even while he sat in class, though, his mind was constantly on the little red book in his bag.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>persephone325</strong> on <strong>04-03-2013, 10:45:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100401191448/fatalframe/images/c/c2/Misaki_Asou1.png)</div>Misaki couldn't focus for the rest of the day. Or the rest of the week, for that matter... Before she realized it, Friday night was upon her.<br><br>"Jeez... Where did the week go?" She wondered aloud as she sat on the couch. All of a sudden, Misaki found herself unable to fight against unexpected fatigue. Within moments, she drifted off into sleep.<br><br>The dream she had was more like a nightmare. Flashes of the past flooding into her subconscious. Rogetsu Island, masks, Sakuya dancing, the moon... Oh, the moon... What beauty it holds.<br><br>After what seemed like only a few minutes of sleep, Misaki woke up. But not in the same place where she had fallen asleep. When she finally emerged from the haze of sleep, she found herself outside in her backyard... Under the moonlight.<br><br>"Oh no... Please, I thought this was done!" She held her hands against the sides of her head. After a moment, she rushed back into her house and locked the door.<br><br>Breathing heavily, and slightly panicking, she hurried into her kitchen and poured herself some water from the sink. Nice, refreshing water flooded her mouth and cooled her down. Despite being cool outside, she felt unusually warm. Like she was starting to get a fever. What's worse, she was getting a headache and... Hearing things?<br><br>There was no denying it. It was very faint, but she could hear music. It sounded familiar, but it was still too low to tell.<br><br><em>Where's that coming from?</em> She wondered. After listening for a few more moments, it sounded like it was coming from her bed room. As Misaki drew closer to the music, her head began to pound more and more. Almost to the point where she nearly fell to the ground from the pain.<br><br>"Agh!" She clutched her head with both hands again as she entered her room. That's when an intense stabbing pain shot through her head. She let out an agonizing cry as she fell to her knees, then collapsed on the floor of her bedroom. The pain was intense, but the singing was loud enough now that she could make out the tune.<br><br><em>The Tsukimori Song...?</em> As Misaki recognized the music, the pain in her head subsided a bit. It was still painful, but now it just seemed to be a somewhat dull ache. As Misaki laid on the floor, something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.<br><br>Something was under the bed. Strange, because Misaki didn't remember ever storing anything under there. Rolling onto her side, she reached her hand under the bed and pulled out the object. As it came into view, Misaki's hands shook.<br><br>Sakuya's mask... The Mask Of The Lunar Eclipse... But how?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kitakaze</strong> on <strong>06-03-2013, 22:58:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/84ff483c-a05f-4f5c-86d1-6e055251a06e_zps5e4795f7.jpg)</div><br>"Well, I can hardly get mad at being left behind when I was the one who missed the train... <em>Ikeetan wa</em>, I slept a little on the way home. <em>Aa, tokoo da ima metcha omoroi mise shitten nen ya</em>! I never expected to find a store with so many antiques in Tokyo, but it was right where the note I found said it would be... Yes, of course I bought a few.. Three of them are early works written by Takamine Junsei-han... Haha,<em> ee honmari ya</em>! I know Dad will be interested to see them, too... No, I just got off the train. Kita-Senri station, right, and headed back to my apartment to sleep a bit before more research... <em>Ee ya</em>, take care at work, <em>Okahan</em>."<br><br>With a heartfelt sigh of relief, John swiped his thumb across the screen of his phone and ended the call. He loved his Mother dearly, but even he had to admit the woman could talk the ears off of a crow. It hadn't helped much when he moved out into his own apartment, merely resulting in daily phone calls to check up on him. He chuckled quietly to himself and smiled, at least he knew his parents cared for him and understood his need for his own space. In truth, he hadn't moved all that far away, really. He was still less than two kilometers from the main campus, and less than ten from his family's home. Moving out had been mostly for the sake of his own ego, if he was completely honest about it, to prove that he could take care of himself just fine. Granted, it also gave him a good bit more privacy and leeway when it came to the stacks and stacks of books which had accumulated in recent years once his shelves had been stuffed to bursting, something which his Father routinely got berated for at home as well.<br><br>When John finally made it up to his apartment, he felt suddenly exhausted almost the second he stepped into the entryway. Blinking rapidly and giving his head a shake, he muttered to himself as he kicked off his shoes, "Reading for the whole five hour trip might not have been the same as sleeping after all..." After stepping into his indoors slippers, he shuffled tiredly to the main room and set his messenger bag down by his low desk along one wall. The room, about fifteen by twenty feet, served as his living room and bedroom at the same time, which suited him just fine as being convenient. The only other rooms in the apartment were a small kitchen, a smaller bathroom, and a toilet not much bigger than a public stall. While somewhat less convenient, all still more than enough for him.<br><br>Out of habit, John grabbed his folded up futon and laid it out right beside his desk, lying down with every intention of getting some sleep. However, something kept nagging at the back of his mind, and after staring at his bag for what felt like an hour, he finally sat up and pulled out the stack of worn tomes to place them on his desk. He would sleep just as soon as he gave the books one more look over, just in case.<br><br>Flipping through the first revealed nothing more unusual than a few pages with wrinkled edges, and the next two followed suit. He was feeling more and more tired and annoyed with himself for being so foolish with each page in the nearly identical books, when he set one aside and found that the next book on the stack was one he did not recall picking out. Frowning slightly, he picked it up and turned it over a few times, examining it from every angle. It was bound in a silvery-blue material, almost the color of ray skin, and appeared to be some sort of old diary or journal, complete with a slightly dingy gray tassel, presumably intended as a place marker.<br><br>There were no markings on the outside that he could find, and it seemed to be in very good condition, but while it appeared almost new, John just could not help but think of it as rather old. Careful to keep his fingertips on the edge of the book, avoiding the risk of smudging potentially faded ink, he opened the book curiously. He raised an eyebrow at the blank pages, "At least I know it really is a journal now..." Muttering thoughtfully, he shut the book and opened it again from the other cover, wondering if it was actually written in the traditional format of right to left. What he saw then made his other eyebrow shoot up to join the first. The pages were blank as well, save for the topmost right corner where he saw his own name written, faded to brown as though in very old ink.<br><br>For a moment he wondered if the shop owner had slipped it in as an extra incentive to return, he had to admit that someone that clever and quick with books would keep his business for years to come. Then he noticed just <em>how</em> his name was written. A looping cursive letter "J" followed by his surname in kanji. The old man would have had no way of knowing that this was John's personal signature when he didn't have his Hanko available. That was... peculiar. He shut the book for a moment and looked over at his alarm clock. "No, I didn't drift off... how in the world did that get there, then?" He took another peek at the inside cover and sure enough, that was his signature staring back at him. John set the book down completely this time and pushed it to one side of his desk. Maybe he was more tired than he thought. Just in case, though, he decided to check the rest of the books for anything odd before getting to bed, after all it was only just after ten in the evening. <br><br>With that decided, he gave a nod that was supposed to make him feel confident, but more or less failed miserably. Heaving yet another sigh, he picked up the next book in the stack, a much more weathered looking book with a worn and faded leather binding. It was the last of the volumes written by Takamine Junsei he had found. One of his older works, in fact, and starting with the first few pages John found handwritten notes which continued throughout the book. He was about to pass it up as the result of carelessly enthusiastic prior owners when an old Polaroid photograph fell out from the worn pages and landed on the desk beside the strange journal. He set aside the book and picked up the photograph, peering closely at it. It was a group of three young men posing for the camera in front of an old Torii gate with who appeared to be Junsei Takamine himself. The reverse side of the photo listed the apparent names of the subjects and a date. "Takamine-Sensei, Hinasaki-kun, Amakura-kun, Aso-kun. April 17, 1986... Well I know who Takamine-Sensei was, but the others... his assistants? They sound familiar..."<br><br>Curious all over again, John set aside the photo and picked the annotated book back up and began to read from the start. The notes appeared to be additions and corrections to the original information, possibly done by those three in the photo as they continued their Sensei's work after his disappearance? He couldn't say, but the drive to keep reading kept him up until just after midnight when John finally nodded off at his desk, knocking the journal to the floor in the process. As though guided by an invisible hand, the smaller book fell open perfectly to the first page, and slowly words began to appear in a mixture of English and Japanese, just as John often wrote his notes while thinking.<br><br><span style="font-family: anndale mono;" class="bbc_font"><strong><em>Do-okashii na</em>....was it really me who put my name in that journal....<em>ikan wa</em>....but how could it not have been me...<em>atoo de ta ee ya</em>....</strong></span><br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Translation</div><div class="spoiler_body">ikeetan wa: I'm fine<br>Aa, tokoo da i metcha omoroii mise shittenen ya: Yeah, in any case now I know of a very interesting shop.<br>Ee, honmari wa: Yeah, that's true!<br>Ee ya: alright<br>Do-okashii na: Very strange<br>Ikan wa: it can't/couldn't be<br>Atoo de ta ee ya: There's time for that later</div></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashena</strong> on <strong>08-03-2013, 22:06:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Suggestions/9f0acbb3-291e-469f-880c-8fc803fb7a89_zps09e52d93.jpg)</div>&nbsp; <br>Name: Kassil Valewalker<br>Where: Starbucks, walking to class.<br>Thinking: Confused about the notebook still.<br>=========================================================================================================================================================<br><br>The note book sat on the table open to the first page, the braille having not changed. Her name was printed in the top left hand corner. She could not help but think how impossible it was yet nothing happened with out a reason. Kassil's head was so wrapped up in thinking about the book she had tuned out the world behind her. Lost to her own thoughts and mind. It was not until a hand was placed firmly on her shoulder that she snapped back into reality. Her left hand reached up to feel the hand that was placed on her shoulder. The skin was soft and moisturized; she could feel on the nails that her fingers glided over the waxy finish of nail polish. She knew who ever it was, the hand belonged to a female. <strong>"Hun, its quarter to one. You usually leave by now is everything ok?" </strong> The woman from the counter spoke softly into Kassil's ear. She had been the one holding Kassil's shoulder to not only get her attention but to let her know where she was. Sure if she listened to the voice long enough she could pick out a general location of the person but the hand on the shoulder was an added nice gesture. "<strong>It's... OH... Thank you, I must have missed the chime on the clock."</strong> Kassil replied as she reached back down to her note book to close it back up. She would drag it down to the edge of the table before pulling it off and stuffing it away into her bag. The woman from behind the counter stepped back and allowed Kassil to back up from the table and stand. Already her right hand was making its way into the bag for her cane. <strong>"Here let me help you to the door. Its very crowded in here and I would hate to see you tripped up"</strong> The comment was met with a smile and a nod. Kassil extended the cane but held it to her side, extending her left hand out she reached around the air until her hand made contact with the woman's elbow. She was lead out to the front door with out any issues; the woman that helped her there would smile and said. <strong>"I hope you enjoyed your coffee I will see you at the same time tomorrow."</strong> The bell on the door chimed indicating that she had already walked back inside and the door was closing, so she felt no need to yell out a reply.&nbsp; <br><br>The tip of the cane bounced back and fourth across the sidewalk, it was not that far of a walk back to the school but than again it was not as though Kassil could run the distance to make up the time. When the hard ground of the sidewalk turned into a raised platform followed by the soft feel of dirt she knew she had hit the premises of the school. Her class was on the first floor and was not all that hard to navigate to. For the most part the people in her school were extremely helpful they would offer to lead her to class though she had the layout pretty mapped out in terms of how many steps it took her to get from one place to another. It was when the jocks decided it would be fun to bump into her turning her around to the point where she was not sure exactly which way she was pointed, that really messed with her. Either it was out of pride or embarrassment she had never reported the incidents to the school officials instead she brushed it aside and pretended it had only been an accident. Thankfully being that she was already fifteen minutes late she had not encountered any further difficulty's. <br><br>There was a loud thump as her cane pressed up against the wooden frame of the door at the end of the hall, it was followed by a few giggles and laughter from the class. The noise had interrupted the class and announced her late arrival to the class. Kassil pulled the cane back and reached out for the handle so she could open the door. As expected she was met with a smart remark made by the professor. <strong>"I see we have another late bloomer. Well come in take your seat."</strong> He had of course been talking about Duncan who arrived moments before her. Kassil remained silent as she counted the steps in her head to where her desk was. It was continent that she had the desk furthest to the right of the class and in the front row so it had only been six steps from the door. As she hit the sixth step her leg pressed firmly into the edge of the desk as it had every other time. Her hands fell to the top of the surface, and she traced the outline around to the back where her chair was. Once she sat down and got her self situated the professor resumed his speech. <br><br>( I am sorry its short I am still extremely tired and about to go lay down again &gt;.&gt; )
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MabFaerie</strong> on <strong>09-03-2013, 03:26:25</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/b36a2cbe-7ec2-4a0f-83c1-80b5a9177b34_zps94ff6f9e.jpg)</div><br>The shrill sound of a telephone ringing forced Aislin into a hazy consciousness. She turned her head somewhat to gaze at the nearby clock, trying to force the numbers on it to make sense to her still sleep-addled brain. <br>"9:42" she murmured and sat up. Was it evening? Or had she slept until morning of the following day? It was hard to tell with the way everything felt as if it had begun to blend together as of late.<br>Making her way, unsteadily so, to the living room, Aislin was assaulted by the bright, warm light that poured through the windows into her home. Apparently it was morning after all. She must have slept a good fifteen hours, at best!<br><br>At least it was the weekend. She wouldn't have to worry about dragging herself into work and pretending to be productive, anyway. <br>But what was that annoying high pitched shrieking sound?<br>Oh right. The phone.<br><br>Fumbling somewhat, Aislin managed to grasp the phone on the fourth ring and slam her index finger on the recieve button. <br>"Hello?" Aislin breathed, her voice betraying her exhaustion and making her sound as if she was practically still asleep. If the cheerful female voice on the other end of the phone had any inclination of this however, she made no motion to reveal it as she replied, <br>"Hello, May I please speak to Miss Aislin McCarthy?"<br>"This is she." Aislin replied, recognizing the voice almost immediately as her Mothers main nurse, but held off from jumping to conclusions just to be sure. Given the insanity she'd been dealing with lately, she wouldn't have been half surprised to find them calling to cart <em>her </em>away instead of to report on her mothers well being. <br><br>"Hello Miss McCarthy, this is Catherine Velour, your Mothers Head Nurse. I'm calling to discuss her current well-being?" Her tone had a distinct upwards inflection at the end of her sentence, making it sound more like a question than a statement, but Aislin knew what it was. <br>Like clockwork, Catherine would call around the same time on the same day, every few weeks and say the same thing. <em>Sorry, but there's been no change.&nbsp; We're doing everything we can. The root cause remains undetermined. No. No. Yes? ...no. No, sorry. No.</em><br>"Well thank you for calling. Tell me Mother I'll be in for a visit today." Aislin informed the nurse, knowing it would do her mother no good, but that it at least helped Aislin keep her own peace.<br>"I'm sure she'll be delighted to hear that, Miss McCarthy. We'll look forward to seeing you."<br>Aislin held back the sarcastic retort that lingered on the tip her tongue, begging to be spat out like a bad taste. Her mother wouldn't be delighted. Her mother barely knew who she was. <br><br>With a few overly polite goodbyes, Aislin hung up the phone and shook her head, mumbling to herself.<br>"Let's just get this over with..." Perhaps this made her a bad daughter, being so unenthusiastic to visit her only living parent? But then, could a woman so unstable that she wouldn't be able to recognise her flesh and blood standing right before her really be considered a mother at all? Was parenthood so whittled down to very basics of who shared DNA with who? Aislin was not inclined to agree.<br><br><hr><br>Some time later,&nbsp; Aislin sat in the waiting room of West-Haven Hospital, perusing through a Cosmopolitan magazine and waiting for Catherine to be available. It wasn't long before the ever familiar nurse, clad in purple scrubs with her blonde hair swept back into a ponytail, arrived to welcome Aislin in.<br>"Your mother has been looking forward to seeing you, Miss McCarthy." Catherine smiled, Aislin severely doubted the truthfulness of that statement <br>"My mother doesn't look forward to anything, Catherine. My mother doesn't even know my name." Aislin retorted as she stood, dropping the magazine aside and moving towards Catherine.<br>&nbsp;<br>"Oh but she knows your face, Miss! She knows that you come to visit her once a week on Saturdays, twice on her birthday."<br>"No, Catherine. <em>You</em> know that information. But my Mother? My mother couldn't tell me from Eve. She probably thinks I'm just a nurse in a funny outfit." Aislin remarked, following close behind Catherine as she began to lead her down the ever familiar twists and turns of hallways that made up the sparkling clean hospital.<br><br>"That's not true at all, dear. She may not be able to express it all aloud, but I'm certain that somewhere in her mind, she knows it's you. A mother can't just forget her daughter. A mothers love is more powerful than any other force."<br>"Right. Well, my Mother is doing an incredibly good show then. Last I checked, she hasn't called me by name since I was 10."<br>"Well you just have to keep trying!" Catherine assured Aislin as she led her at last into the room where her mother waited.<br>"I've spent ten years trying, Catherine. Forgive me if I'm tired now."<br>Catherine only smiled in response as she closed the door behind her, leaving Aislin and her mother in the nearly barren room alone.<br><br>The room itself was bare except for an empty white table and two chairs sitting across from one another. A single glass window was set along the wall opposite the door, and at the moment Aislins mother appeared to be gazing out of it, lost in the thoughts that devoured her fragile mind.<br>"...Okasan." Aislin whispered quietly, trying not to startle her mother and at the same time, wishing for once that her mother would respond to the word. She never did. She never would. <br><br>"Okasan, Watashi wa... koko ni iru. Did you miss me? Do you even know who I am?" <br>Aislin moved towards the empty seat, watching as her mother stared blankly out the window still, ignoring her existence entirely. <br>The visits were always like this. Aislin sat and spoke and sometimes wept. Her mother, like a block of marble, remained stone-faced and unresponsive.<br>Sometimes, though rarely so, she would say something, but it never made sense and it was never in response to anything Aislin might have said.<br>Ten years of this and then some, Aislin had lost hope long ago. She was tempted to just stop visiting entirely, but that remained a difficult call for her to make.<br><br>"Okasan... Watashi wa kimyōna nikki o mitsuketa. It... It just appeared out of nowhere... and now it feels like it's... haunting me. Like I can't escape it. Like everything is... going wrong and there's no way for me to stop it." Aislin lowered her gaze to her hands, now clenched tightly around one another, pale and white with stress and fear. <br>"Watashi wa kowaidesu!" She whimpered, closing her eyes as tears spilled forth against her will.<br>She heard, but did not see her mother turn in her seat, until the once beautiful woman faced her full on. <br>Lifting her head, she could see how her father had fallen in love with this woman. Even now, in her late 40's, she was a beautiful woman. She looked young, despite her age, her skin was still fresh and clear, a peaches and cream complexion complemented pale coral shaded lips. This elegant Japanese beauty had no need for makeup. She was lovely just as she was. <br>If she had been able to hold onto her senses and keep herself together, it was clear she would have swept any other man off his feet in no time. Instead, the death of her husband led her deeper into despair and swallowed her whole. Now, there would be no escaping from it. <br><br>"Kimono." Aislin blinked a few times, certain that she's misheard her. <br>"K...kimono? What about a Kimono?"<br>"Haiiro to Midori..."<br>Aislin tensed. This wasn't happening. Not here. Not now. <br>"Nikki... Furui Nikki..."<br>"Stop!" Aislin shook her head in outrage and horrified confusion. <br>"You read the journal?" She whispered, clear as day, in English. Aislins mother had never much cared for English, but had only used it when Aislin was around, since it was her daughters first language. <br>"Mother...?" <br>"You saw the woman in the Kimono?" For the first time in years, Aislins mother had said something that appeared to not only make perfect sense, but was a response to what Aislin was talking about.<br>"Hai, Okasan... are you... alright?" <br>"Be careful, my daughter. Don't let her take you. The Kimono woman... she wants back what was stolen from her. It wasn't our fault, but we are left to bare the weight. It was too deep a sin for even us to escape." <br>"I don't understand! Who is this Kimono woman? Why does she want me? What have I done?"<br>"Once you read the diary, you've sealed your fate. Do not let her curse spread! I tried to keep you safe..." Her mothers voice strained a bit with a masked sorrow, pain apparent in her gaze. <br>"I don't understand, Okasan! What are you talking about?"<br>"I did my best to save you... my sweet daughter. My... Aislin." All of a sudden it was as if the light had fled from her mothers eyes. Her expression went blank again and she slumped back into her seat, listless and unresponsive. <br>"Okasan! OKASAN!" Aislin screamed, trying to get a response from her mother but found only silence would greet her.<br><br>The shouting drew the attention of the staff and soon Catherine came rushing in.<br>"Miss McCarthy, is everything alright? We heard yelling..."<br>Aislin spun on Catherine then, confusion, fury and pain in her eyes.<br>"My mother is <em>NOT</em> permitted to make phone calls to anyone outside of the family! Who is this 'kimono woman' she’s been talking to?!" She demanded, wanting to know who, aside from herself, that her mother had been seeing.<br>"Our apologies miss, but your mother hasn't made any phone calls in months, as to our knowledge." <br>"That can’t be right, she told me about a woman she’s been speaking to! What about visitors? Has anyone come to see her?!"<br>"Ma’am, the phone has a passcode on it that only staff members can unlock. She would not be able to access it of her own accord, and her call chart is blank except for you. I assure you, she’s made no phone calls, and you are her only visitor. There is no kimono woman."<br><br>Aislin swallowed down the rage that was building inside her. That couldn't be true. There was no way her mother could be referring to the Kimono woman Aislin had seen in her nightmares. There was no way her mother would have even known!<br>"I... I need to go." Aislin said abruptly and motioned to leave. Catherine began to protest but Aislin was already well on her way out before the woman had time to finish her sentence. <br><br><hr><br>Upon returning home, Aislin began tearing her bookshelf apart looking for the Diary. She had placed it between two larger, more noticeable books a few days prior, but now it was nowhere to be seen. She didn't even stop to take off her jacket or shoes or to even put her messenger bag down, she just set to work looking for the notebook.<br>Still high-strung from the events with her mother, Aislin raced through her home, pulling out couch cushions and cuboard drawers to try and locate the diary.<br>When she entered her bedroom, she stopped. <br>The diary was open, on her bed, as if waiting for her. Even from afar, she could see the soft violet swirl of ink moving across it. The diary was writing itself right before her very eyes.<br>As if that was not shocking enough, the wall that had been solid and bare before, windowless and empty, was now a sliding screen door. <br>"That wall leads to the outside. I'm on the second floor. There's no door there." Aislin whispered in disbelief. <br>"I'm going crazy. I'm absolutely, positively, going crazy." <br><br>As she approached the bed, she glanced down at the writing as it continued to sprawl across the page.<br><em>Okasan tried to save me... but she couldn't. Just as she tried to save herself by running away and locking her world up tight in that tiny room. The Kimono woman is coming. She cannot be stopped. She will have what is hers, at all costs. It is not my place to run. I do not deserve the right of betrayal. I will go to her. I must.</em><br><br>"I didn't write that..." Aislin knew it didn't even matter what she said now, as whatever curse the diary had wrought upon her and apparently her mother too, was too strong to escape from. <br>Running was not the answer. It had not saved her mother to run, and Aislin was not the type of girl to lay down and accept her fate peacefully. <br>If this strange Kimono woman wanted something from her, then Aislin was determined to find out what. There was no in between. She refused to end up an old woman locked in a padded cell. She would find a way to escape this fate for good or die trying. <br><br>"Alright... let's get this over with..." With trembling hands, Aislin reached for the paper screen, somehow not surprised when she found it was solid and firm. It moved when she pulled on it, sliding aside with ease. <br>One shaky but determined breath later, Aislin stepped through the paper screen doorway, half expecting to plummet to her death, but finding herself in an entryway instead. <br><br>The bright golden light from the paper screen doorway faded fast and the doorway itself seemed to slam shut and disappear behind her. <br>All that was behind her now was a thick and solid wall. No doorway. No turning back.<br>At her feet rested the small purple diary, waited to be picked up.<br><br>"So you're coming with me then? ...fine." Kneeling down, she grabbed the diary and tucked it into the messenger bag she'd still had strapped around her person from the visit with her mother.<br>Taking a steady breath, she rose and turned around, ready to face whatever waited for her now.<br><br><hr><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Japanese Translations</div><div class="spoiler_body"><br>Okasan : Mother<br><br>Okasan, Watashi wa koko ni iru : Mother, I'm here.<br><br>Okasan... Watashi wa kimyōna nikki o mitsuketa : Mother... I found a strange diary.<br><br>Watashi wa kowaidesu! : I am afraid!<br><br>Haiiro to Midori: Grey and Green<br><br>Nikki... Furui Nikki : Diary... Old Diary<br><br>Hai, Okasan... : Yes, Mother...</div></div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>persephone325</strong> on <strong>09-03-2013, 06:27:45</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100401191448/fatalframe/images/c/c2/Misaki_Asou1.png)</div>Misaki hadn't realized she had passed out until she woke up the next morning. She was still on the floor of her bedroom, mask in hand.<br><br>As she opened her eyes, she squinted in the light of the morning sun. The clock on the bedroom wall read 11:02. Misaki groaned as she sat up and shook her head, trying to clear her mind and focus her thoughts. Her headache was gone, and she couldn't hear anymore music. Thankfully...<br><br>She slowly stood up, mask in hand. A wave of dizziness made her lose her balance, and she leaned against her bedroom wall for support. "Ugh..." She groaned softly, holding one side of her head. The mask stared up at her with the same expression it had when she first saw it years ago. The faint design of carefully painted flowers could still be seen.<br><br>Misaki still couldn't wrap her head around it all. How did the mask get here? Why had she heard The Tsukimori Song? What was with the diary? What did it all mean?<br><br>She tossed the mask onto her bed and and headed out of her room. She made her way into the living room and saw the aqua colored diary on her tea table. Strangely enough, it was open. Misaki could see, even from her distance, that it was on a different page than the one she had seen yesterday.<br><br>Slowly, she made her way over to the table and took a look at the new page. There were no words this time. It was a picture. It looked like a photograph that had blended into the paper. Misaki couldn't contain the loud gasp that escaped her lips.<br><br>Miya. Her doll. It was a picture of her doll, but one she had never seen before. How... How was this possible? Misaki couldn't close the little book fast enough. She picked it up and threw it down the hallway, towards the door of her room.<br><br>She hurried over to the couch and sat down, pulling her knees up under her. "Kore wa douiu imi desuka...?" Her voice sounded weak and unsure. She laid on the couch, then suddenly blacked out.<br>*****<br>Misaki woke up with a start. The clock read 3:10 in the afternoon. "How is that possible? It only felt like a few minutes!" She exclaimed as she sat up. "What is happening to me...?" She cradled her head in her hands.<br><br>After a few moments, she headed towards her room. As she rounded the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks. The door to her bedroom was completely different. It was the door to her hospital room from the Rogetsu Island sanatorium... Room 310.<br><br>"Damn it..." Misaki looked down and cursed the diary. She opened the closet door beside her bedroom and pulled out a shoulder bag. She picked up the diary and shoved it in the bag draped over her shoulder. Inside the bag was a flashlight, and her Camera Obscura. The one she used at Rogetsu...<br><br>"Let's get this done." Misaki said with determination, then opened the door marked 310...<br><hr><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Translation</div><div class="spoiler_body">Kore wa douiu imi desuka? - What does this mean?</div></div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Teo Torriatte</strong> on <strong>12-03-2013, 07:45:42</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/3d87bccc-3262-498c-9304-e5ce4bd1ac06_zps54265354.jpg)</div>Things just seemed to slide farther down hill since that night when Elaine had pointed out the writing in Cassandra's diary. At least, it seemed to be her diary even though she wasn't actually writing it herself. At first, the Canadienne tried to wrack her brain to figure out who or what might be doing it... maybe it was some sort of spirit, or just some kind of curse... had Malcolm Renault put a curse on her? Was he capable of that kind of power? She wasn't sure, and pretty soon it didn't even really seem to matter.<br><br>She withdrew even deeper into herself as the days passed by, then weeks... neglecting her studies, not even leaving her room except to get food maybe once a day. That damned diary was bringing it all back, all the pain and anger she had told herself she had buried, it all came flooding out and she wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to take it. On several occasion, she even threw the damned silver book out the window, but that would only reward her with another nightmare and when she woke the next morning, it would be sitting there on her dresser, just like she had found it on that first night.<br><br>The days after she left the coven she had become almost a shell of her former self, little more than a ghost, drifting through existence and wondering when it would ever get any better. It had, but all that was seeming to peel away as the diary recorded her downward spiral into despondency... both the first time it had happened, and even now it kept recording her thoughts and feelings, as if whatever force was writing it could peer into her soul. Elaine would knock on her door from time to time, but Cassie would just groan and tell her to go away.<br><br>Just when she thought that things couldn't get any more fucked up, she had another nightmare. This one was even more vivid than usual, which for Cassie was saying something, since all her dreams tended to be quite lucid. But in this one, she was in the middle of a field of cherry blossoms, the moon looming high overhead. A light breeze ruffled her long platinum hair and the thin white dress she was wearing, and she clutched her favorite camera to her chest as she gazed off in the distance. There was some kind of large house just over the horizon, and she felt compelled to walk towards it.<br><br>In her mind she knew that it was a very bad idea to go towards that house, but she couldn't stop herself. She even tried to will herself to stop at one point, fearing that she was reaching some point of no return, but her legs kept moving, one feet placed inexorably in front of the other, the large house looming ahead, even bigger than she had thought it was as she neared the front door. "Noooo... I shouldn't... I want to go home..." she mewled, but it was too late. She saw herself reach out to the door, placing her palm on the old wooden frame, then a flash of light and she blacked out.<br><br>When she came to, she was in a darkened room, with no idea how she had gotten there, everything was silent except the pounding in her chest and her heavy breathing as she peered around, trying to adjust her eyes to the pitch black darkness. "I must still be dreaming," she whispered to herself. She still had her camera, and she was still wearing that dress, which draped lightly down her full figure and almost gave her a ghost-like quality. She must still be dreaming, she could only hope that she was. For the moment she remained in the small room, too scared even to search for a source of light, but she knew she would have to move eventually. Or wake up.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cosmo_ac</strong> on <strong>12-03-2013, 22:44:39</strong>
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				(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/6557dd01-d466-4b53-a243-f2aa3370203a_zpsec287b1f.jpg)<br><br>Duncan was still turning the book round and round in his hand, a glass of Jack Daniels in the other as a half-drunken bottle was off to the left, sitting on his desk.&nbsp; He knew that drinking probably wasn't the best idea now, but he needed to slow down all the thoughts in his head, and whiskey was good for that.&nbsp; He took a small, slow breath, and opened the diary again.<br><br>Somehow, the events of the day had been added to the diary.&nbsp; Once again, it was in red ink, and once again, it was in his handwriting, and finally, once again, he didn't remember writing any of it down.&nbsp; Essentially, one of four things was going on.&nbsp; He was either writing in the diary and not remembering; somebody was fucking with him in an incredibly skillfull way; he was going insane; or, somehow, the diary was writing itself.&nbsp; <br><br>Duncan wasn't really a believer in ghosts, but he was also humble enough to understand that he didn't know everything in the universe either, so he didn't want to take the supernatural off the table.&nbsp; If he was blacking out, this would be a first time alcohal wasn't involved and he had never heard of a case like this before.&nbsp; It was possible somebody was playing a joke, but Duncan didn't have a clue who it was, or how they could pull it off so well, as it would have to mean somebody was following him around, retrieving or switching the diary without him knowing, AND matching his handwriting to perfection and Duncan couldn't imagine ever doing anything that deserved that much time and effort dedicated to himself by anybody.&nbsp; The possibility of him going insane was going insane was&nbsp; (sadly) something he couldn't take off the table either, though it was a little too early for him to be jumping to that conclusion.&nbsp; <br><br>Duncan had an educated mind, and so, he would come at this from an educated approach.&nbsp; He had already looked at all four possibilities, as he saw them.&nbsp; Now, he had to try and rule each one of them out, one by one, and see where that got him.&nbsp; Of course, that was easier then said then done for some of them.&nbsp; He had decided to try and put the diary in a secure location, and see if that settled things.&nbsp; Before coming him today, he had bought a small wooden box with a latch he could use a padlock on.&nbsp; He had then given the key to his neighbor.&nbsp; Well, it was time to test this theory.<br><br>Taking the diary, Duncan wrapped it first in seran wrap (just incase somebody did pick the lock) and then placed the book inside the small box.&nbsp; He snapped the padlock on, and just to make extra sure nobody could get to it without noticing, he placed the box under his pillow.&nbsp; That should just about do it.&nbsp; Laying down in the bed (he was still fully dressed) Duncan closed his eyes and went to sleep.<br><br>********<br><br>When Duncan woke up, he instantly knew he wasn't in his bed.&nbsp; It felt like the floor, but the room was pitch black.&nbsp; Reaching into his pocket, Duncan drew out his zippo flashlight and flicked the flintwheel until an orange/yellow flame illuminated the room.&nbsp; It was spacious, and it looked old.&nbsp; Getting to his feet, Duncan began to look around his new suroundings, trying to see what he could see and figure out how he got here.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kitakaze</strong> on <strong>13-03-2013, 04:42:06</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/84ff483c-a05f-4f5c-86d1-6e055251a06e_zps5e4795f7.jpg)</div><br><em>Himuro... Camera Obscura... Shimegorosu saishiki<sup>1</sup>.... Crimson butterflies... Kamikakushi<sup>2</sup>... Manor of Sleep... Kimono...</em><br><br>With a start John sat up, and looked frantically around the room. After a few moments of disorientation from the sudden transition from sleep to fully awake, he managed to recall where he was. Safe in his apartment, surrounded by books, definitely not in an old dilapidated manor surrounded by bodies... Suppressing a shiver at the images lingering in his mind, he scratched the back of his head absently and looked down at the book he had fallen asleep on. The handwriting of the notes changed twice before the end, suggesting to him that it had changed hands each time, rather than his original suspicion that it had been a group project.<br><br>"If this is all from the same men in that photo, then why would the notes not intersect...? It almost seems like they passed it on with a reason each time... but what?" With a small frown at the lack of available information, John reached for a pen and the new journal to make a note on his suspicions. When he didn't see the book at first, he felt a sudden surge of panic followed by a sigh of relief when his hand came down on the oddly cool binding of the strange journal. Just why he felt reassured at the touch escaped him for the moment, though he was far too distracted with his other thoughts to give it much attention for the moment anyway.<br><br>While still sorting through the lingering bits of his dreams, John absently flipped the journal open to the first page, not paying any real attention as he mentally prioritized who and what to research first. "If I start with Takamine-sensei, the information will be older, but more confirmed... Da ga<sup>3</sup> working backwards may provide complete information, at least in synopsis... Haa, yayakoshii wa<sup>4</sup>" Scratching at the back of his head distractedly, John finally turned his attention to the journal and froze. The entire first two pages were completely filled with his habitual amalgamation of English and Japanese notes, jumping from one language to the other with each change of thought.<br><br>He hesitated only a moment, eyebrows knitting in mild consternation, before gently turning the page with a fingertip. Seeing that the next two pages were full as well, John sat back slightly, his frown deepening. He knew with complete certainty that he had not written in the book yet, though what he saw pointedly suggested otherwise. Turning the next page, albeit with a bit less caution, revealed only half of the fifth page filled... more of his thoughts seemed to spider down and across as he watched. As he watched in fascination he found himself leaning over the page close enough to smell the ink which rose up through the paper itself.<br><br>No matter how close he got, or how he thought about it, there just was no way he could explain this logically. He was certainly familiar with mythology and the concept of the supernatural, but to experience something personally... John glanced over to the older book, wondering for a moment whether sleeping on such a book might have brought on such an unusual circumstance and just as he was turning back he was struck with the sudden sensation of the bottom dropping out of his stomach, and the even more disturbing sensation of someone standing over him. He was sure he could feel hands reaching out for him, if only he could move...<br><br>Without warning John jolted upright from where his face was stuck to the cover of the odd journal, inadvertently slamming one of his knees into the underside of his desk with a half shouted curse. Still clutching his bruised knee, he turned at the waist, frantically scanning the room for any sign of an intruder or... Something. Glancing at the clock revealed that he had been asleep for just over ah hour. <em>Yume mou...ka</em><sup>5</sup>... I should learn to get to bed at a reasonable hour..." With a relieved, albeit pained, sigh he shook his head and made a mental note to get to the University library in the morning, pointedly not looking at the journal sitting in the middle of his desk as he scooted out to lay down to sleep properly. Things are always clearer in the morning, after all.<br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Japanese Translation</div><div class="spoiler_body">1. Strangling Ritual<br>2. Spirited away<br>3. And yet...<br>4. This is troublesome...<br>5. Another dream?<br></div></div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lumasan</strong> on <strong>13-03-2013, 12:27:10</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i106.photobucket.com/albums/m241/Lui_punkgirl/miwa_asao_090_zpsafcb4000.jpg)</div>Hikari was pumped, to say the least. Endorphins began to flow through her veins as she geared up for a long Friday run. She had early classes on Fridays, so her afternoons were devoted to exercising. Running was one of her favorite things to do. Her home city of Otaru had beautiful trails along the water line, whether they were cemented or not. The cool breeze of the waters helped keep her comfortable as she ran, most days. Some times it was too bitter, but today was absolutely beautiful. <br><br>She slipped ear buds into her ears, that were attached to an MP3 player strapped onto her upper right arm. A few more stretches in, and she was finally done with her warm up. She pressed the play button on the player and music filled her ears. One foot in front of the other, Hikari garnered speed. Her tennis shoes beat against the earth as her legs moved flawlessly, her speed still gaining. Once she found her familiar rhythm, there she stayed. It felt like the earth was speeding by, and she was in a special wormhole all of her own. Her mind cleared, all she could feel was the air entering and escaping her lungs, and the music blotted out every thought. Her pony tail bounced as the girl's feet would lift off the ground, and her arms pumped along side her torso.<br><br>After running smoothly for what felt like at least an hour, Hikari passed into a wooded area of the trail. The trail often ran through small local parks, so the change of scenery was enjoyable. One couldn't always zoom past ships and cars and feel refreshed. The cement path switched over to an earthen one, dirt and some gravel providing for a different kind of shock to her knees. A few minutes in on the dirt trail, Hikari tripped. This was unusual because of how she normally placed her feet when she was running. She didn't let her toes or her heels drag when picking them up, some almost considered her running to be an elaborate form of prancing, or leaping. As she fell towards the earthen path, her arms came out in front of her. Suddenly she was wishing she had worn a long sleeved shirt today. Hikari's body scrapped against the hardened earth, and all she could do was grit her teeth. <br><br><strong>"Itai...."</strong> she whined softly. A sharp inhale coursed through her teeth, playing a sharp sound. Her teeth ground together as she flipped herself over, her squinting eyes began examining herself. She bent her arms and winced again. <strong>"Itai!"</strong> she exclaimed again. Talk about road rash, and she wasn't even on a road. Her arms were scraped relatively badly, dirt in her wounds didn't help the stinging feeling coming from them. Her palms and her elbows were the worst though. Hikari held her breath as she carefully picked out a small rock that had embedded itself in the flesh of her left palm. <em>'Of all the days to spill on, had to be the one I was looking most forward to,'</em> she thought to herself as she began to brush off dirt from her wounds on her arms. At least the cool air helped to soothe the abrasions. <br><br>Looking more closely at her wounds, it was obvious that they were beginning to bleed. <strong>"Subarashii..."</strong> she sighed, and then softly wiped her hands on her shorts. Looking at her knees, which just now began to sting, it was very obvious that she at least damaged the top layer of skin. If not a bit worse than that. A mix of dirt and blood covered her knee caps, she had nothing to wipe the debris away except her hands. She'd rather not get more dirt in her hands than there already was. <br><br>It was then Hikari spotted the reason why she was sent tumbling to the earth. Peeking up from the earth, just about two feet away from her feet, was some thing squarish. The dark brunette tilted her head, and her eye brow furled in a curious way. Grumbling she scooted over to it on her feet and hands, to get a closer look. It was odd, squarish in shape, it... almost looked like a corner of a much larger object that was most certainly not a rock. Not much of it was uncovered, but it almost looked like leather. Something drove inside of Hikari, a curiosity, an insatiable curiosity. She wanted to know what it was. She stood up, and looked around for anything flat to dig into the earth. <br><br>After a few minutes of searching, she came back with a flat rock. It wasn't very big, but it could help her dig.&nbsp; She sat down, spreading her legs so that the mysterious object in the ground was closer to her pelvis. She started carefully digging away with the rock, slowly at first. it took a few minutes to get a bit uncovered, but when she did she was forced to pause. Not because someone had seen her digging in the dirt like a child, but because of what the object was appearing to be.<br><strong><br>"A book... in the dirt?"</strong> she trailed off. The dirt removed revealed edges of a bind of a book, and paper peeked through as well. Hikari was confused, greatly so. How would a book be buried in the earth, let alone one on a frequently traveled trail. With new vigor, she dug more and more at it until she had uncovered enough that she could possibly pull it out of the ground. Standing now, Hikari bent over and gripped the two sides of the book and yanked on it as hard as possible. It felt like she was pulling a sword from a stone, but then the book gave way. It flew into the air after she lost grip on it, and she spent a split second aiming to catch it. When she caught it, she was greeted with dirt in her face. Delightful.<br><br>After brushing away the dirt from her mouth, she looked down at the book. Hikari used her fingers to brush off the dirt and discovered that the book was lined in dyed leather. It felt old, so old. It even looked old. If it weren't for the vividness of the dye, and the gold stitching on the cover, she would have thought it at least twenty years old. Brushing off more dirt, she discovered the pattern on the back, and even more her brows furled. "An Oni?" The stitching and embossing portrayed a lumbering Oni chasing something. A large kanabō (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kanab%C5%8D) was held in his hands, up high over high over his head as if he was about to attack. A trail of autumn leaves led to the front cover. <br><br>Flipping it over, into traditional Japanese context (right to left), showed an elegant fox. The gold switched to silver, but only for the fox. The animal seemed distressed, and yet after the frightening image of the Oni, the fox seemed calming to Hikari. She stared at it, and while it was only for a few moments, it felt like a long while. The slant in the eyes of the fox, it's cunning features, and it's silvery white threaded detail. She opened up the book, the paper was thin and yet durable. It looked familiar, but she normally only saw it in expensive books. The pages felt old, yet they were still so smooth and shiny. She couldn't remember the exact name for type of paper used inside, other than it was rather expensive and yet durable despite feeling fragile.<br><br>The inside hadn't been touched, she was about to page through it, when the sting reminder of her injuries distracted her. Closing it, she buried the hole the book left, and made her way back towards her car. Luckily the path she always chose to take was rather circular, and she realized it was only a fifteen minute walk back to her starting point. When she had finally reached her car, she set the dirty book on the dashboard and reached for her water bottle. Parched she drank from it first and then used it to squirt the dirt and blood off of her knees. The coldness of the water made her shiver a little. Slowly, with increasing stiffness in her knees, she climbed into her vehicle. Hikari caught herself staring at the book for a moment, almost in a dazed like way, and then she moved her attention back to her car and starting it.<br><br><hr><div align="center">*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*</div><hr><br>At home, Hikari made her way into her tiny apartment. While her parents had kindly offered her to continue staying at home, she had decided she wanted her own place. A part time job and assistance from her parents helped keep her tiny apartment afloat. She set her water bottle and the dirty book on a small side table in the hallway across from her bathroom. She stripped off her clothing and made her way into her own tiny bathroom. Her hands hurt, and her knees ached, she was sweaty and it only made her feel more grody. As she showered, questions about the book lingered in her mind. Why was it buried there? Why had no one else found it? Why did it seem so old? She sighed softly and focused on cleaning her wounds. Her knees turned out to not be as bad as they seemed before, thank heavens. <br><br>When she was done, she got out and dried herself off. Softly she padded her towel on knees, arms, elbows and palms. She pulled bandages from her first aid in the bathroom closet, and made sure the nastier of the wounds were covered. Wrapped in a towel, she exited her bathroom. She made her way past the stand, but something made her stop. Hikari's eyes were wide, and her mouth slightly agape. Her one bandaged hand gripped the towel, and hugged her chest. Slowly she turned around and looked at the book. It's cover was bright red, clean, and brand new looking. It no longer had that dark red dyed leather cover, or the detail on it. It was plain red leather, and so she continued to stare at it. She rushed over and picked it up, confused. She flipped it over, no fox, no Oni. Only a bright red cover. Opening it she found the pages were now much plainer than they had been before. She flitted through the empty pages of the book, and it became very obvious that it wasn't a book; it was a diary or a journal. The pages were completely blank, lacking any lines, she assumed for being able to write in any kind of fashion a person wanted. As she paged to the front cover she paused.<br><br>Her brown eyes widened greatly, and her lip quivered. Her name, in hiragana, was scribbled into the inside cover. Her finger rubbed over it, it was smooth and the ink was not fresh. It had been in there some time. Scribbled with dark black ink, in of all things... her own handwriting.&nbsp; Slowly, Hikari set down the book, her eyes never leaving it.&nbsp; She then started to back away, as soon as she was a few feet from the book; she turned and made her way to her bedroom. It was strange, she knew it was dirty before she took a shower, and it most certainly didn't look like that before. As she reached her bed she collapsed onto it, her eyes still wide. She was confused. First the book looked old, and was covered in dirt. Now it was brand new, and of all things... her name was written in it. <br><br>Hikari rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She was so confused, terrified, yet calm. She felt strange, she wasn't sure if she should run as far away from that book as possible, or light it on fire. Or, be so intrigued by the book that she had to discover its mystery. Her mind thus swarmed with thoughts, until, she couldn't handle thinking about it anymore. She sat up from her bed, and walked to her dresser. Deciding, perhaps it was better to get dressed and focus on her homework instead.<br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header"> Translations</div><div class="spoiler_body">Itai - Ouch/Ow/Owie<br>Subarashii- That's great.</div></div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DarkRose15</strong> on <strong>14-03-2013, 08:05:01</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/ed0cf5a0-35ab-4899-b813-6b898008d3ee_zps058f17ca.jpg)</div><br>Kaelyn's dreams were becoming more and more odd, more and more vivid the longer she was in the presence of her pretty blue diary/photo journal. It was getting loaded down with pictures but the more she filled it the more she felt like it was getting under her skin. She tried to express this to her psychologist but he told her she needed to stop thinking that way. She wanted to <em>stop</em> feeling that way, not continue. <br><br>Tonight, she was lying in her bed, curled up with a cup of hot tea nearby cooling as she was avidly looking through the pages. Once again she was finding pictures she didn't remember taking, places she'd never been appearing in black and white on the blank pages. She didn't always like taking color shots, there was something that was more beautiful to her when one saw various shades of grey, black and white than there was when an explosion of color was present.<br><br>She kept seeing images of a girl with long black hair in her dreams, and she could swear she saw the faint outline of a person in front of the ancient mansion in her photos. She was beginning to hate sleep, her nightmares feeling like they were trying to suck her in again. Her grasp on reality was really faint and she was fighting like a demon to hold on.<br><br>Click, Click, Click.<br><br><em>No....no stop it!</em>, she scowled, as the clicking sound of camera shutters began to fill her thoughts. With a groan of frustration she closed her book and threw it. She started to cry. <em>Damn you mom.....DAMN YOU!!</em>, she screamed inwardly. Her mother had gifted her with this damn craziness. She was doomed to experience a life of trying to just keep it together enough to function.<br><br>Click, Click, Click.<br><br><em>I'm not going to let this thing beat me.</em>, she thought, laying in her bed looking up. <em>I'm going to ignore it. I took enough caffeine to keep awake all night. I'll just look through a photo book.</em><br><br>Click, Click, Click.<br><br>She furrowed her brow, doing her best to ignore the subtle clicking, the noise growing louder and louder. Sleep was at the edge of her senses, clawing at her and demanding she cave in. She wasn't though, but soon her body began to do the very thing she'd been resisting. Slowly her eyes grew heavier, and she began to lean forward.<br><br>Click, Click, Click.<br><br>Her arms folded, and she rested her cheek against her arms over one of her favorite photo books. <em>Just a little sleep. I'll be ok.</em><br><br>Click, Click, Click.<br><br>Of course, when her eyes next open, she felt hard wood beneath her back. It was cold, and she could just tell. She felt it. She was not in her home, not even close. And she was definitely somewhere she didn't want to be. <br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashena</strong> on <strong>21-03-2013, 23:39:20</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Suggestions/9f0acbb3-291e-469f-880c-8fc803fb7a89_zps09e52d93.jpg)</div>&nbsp; <br>Name: Kassil Valewalker<br>Where: A plain room <br>Thinking: Confused about the notebook, and now her location<br>=========================================================================================================================================================<br><br>The bell rang signaling the end of there class, packing up her items in her usual fashion Kassil would leave her cane feeling around the corners of the hall. She marked her path out in her head as she always did making her way back to her dorm room. Kassil had one thought on her mind, she wanted to pull out her braille set and mark the notebook to test the theory that the letters were already marked by her set. The possibility was zero, she knew no one would have touched her thing's but the need to know was so great she could not get it out of her mind. Doubt swirled around her mind like a mid evening fog that rolled in, a thick sheet that obscured all vision. Reaching her door Kassil reached her left hand to the door, her right hand making its way to her pocket where her keys were. Using her left thumb she marked where the hole was so she could slide the key in easier. Opening the door Kassil removed the key and slammed the door shut, she headed upstairs to her room, her right hand slid across the top of her desk leading her to where her dresser was. Pulling the first draw open Kassil reached in feeling for the square box, it was fairly thick considering it had a puncher for all 26 letters of the Alphabet; she would pull the case out and placed it on the floor in front of her. Next she would pull off her bag which hung down to her side. Inside the only thing she pulled from it was the notebook. Opening to the first page Kassil reached for the letter K. Her hand fell to the page as she reached around to find out where her name was written only there was not just her name anymore. Her fingers scanned the top of the page from right to left, her face in complete disbelief. 'Kassil Valewalker, Today has been hard for me. I was late to class after a small mishap at the local coffee shop. It seems the teacher had others in the class that were late but still it cant happen again' The writting had not been there when she reread it in class yet here it was with even more written down. Not only that it was a retelling of her day so far as though she herself had written the note to herself. "This is so strange. I must be still dreaming." She called out to herself as she slowly rose from the floor. Kassil reached her left hand out feeling for her bed, when her hands fell to the soft blanket that rested on top she would crawl into them face first. Curling up on the Bed Kassil would let her mind wonder off into a dreaming state which eventually turned to her sleeping. <br><br>=========================================================================================================================================<br><br>A loud beeping started to emit from her pocket as her alarm for her next class set off. The small phone began to vibrate as it had yet been turned off. With a groan Kassil would reach into her pocket lifting the cell phone from her pocket. It would look like a normal cell phone from the out side but as she opened it there had been the regular buttons instead of written letters the numbers had small bumps indicating what number it was. On top of that there was a button in the top center of the phone. To the side of it there had been some Braille writting. Kassil's thumb scanned over the device stopping on top of the button, as she pushed it down an automated voice sounded.<strong> "Please&nbsp; say a command"</strong> <strong>"Mal turn off class alarm"</strong> With two beeps the phone spoke again.<strong> "Alarm turned off, reset for tomorrow same time." </strong> With a smile Kassil put the phone back into her pocket. She had the Phone app allowing her to say commands to have the phone input things into her phone. Everything was voice activated so not being able to see was not an issue. With a yawn she would stretch a moment, she could not have been asleep for more than a few hours but she was still feeling slightly tired. As she brought her arms down she ran her hands through her hair pulling it back into a pony tail, she would use the scrunchy on her arm to tie her hair back. <br><br>She had no need to change her clothes, they had still been fresh from the morning and she had only taken a nap. Kassil moved to the edge of the bed and slid off, reaching down she grabbed her notebook and placed it in her bag. She then reached for the box containing the braille set only it had not been there. <em>-I must have really been tired, I don't remember putting that away-</em> She thought as she finally placed the bag onto her shoulder and headed to the door. As she walked she reached into the bag to pull her extendable cane out. She rarely needed it to get around her dorm room but when she gout outside she would not be able to get by with out it, only before she fully was able to pull the cane out Kassil walked straight into the wall. <strong>"What the fuck"</strong> She cried out her hand moving to her face to see if she had been bleeding. When she determined she was fine she would reach around to feel what she had walked into, it should have been a clear shot out to the railing in the hallway. Her hands only found solid wall all the way across the back of the room, her face now showing sign's of complete confusion. Kassil pulled the cane from her bag and extended it, she began to map out the room only to find that this room was foreign to her. This was not her room by any stretch of the imagination. <strong>"Kat? Lorie?"</strong> She called out to her dorm mates trying to see if anyone was home. It had to of been one of there rooms, someone was certainly playing tricks on her and she was not at all impressed. <strong>"Guys come on I am late for class this is not funny."</strong> she continued to map out the room until she found the open door way at the opposite end of the room.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>persephone325</strong> on <strong>24-03-2013, 09:18:59</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100401191448/fatalframe/images/c/c2/Misaki_Asou1.png)<br></div><strong>Misaki Asou<br>Room 310</strong><br><hr>Misaki entered the familiar looking room, and the door shut behind her. She looked back at it, expecting someone to be standing there. But, of course, there wasn't.<br><br>Everything looked exactly the same as it had when she last visited. The room was dark and musty. Everything had a thick layer of dust, not having been touched in such a long time. The bed was still made, though it didn't look like the best place to lay down in. The crib next to her bed for her doll brought back memories of Miya and Sakuya. She missed her friend so much...<br><br>As Misaki wandered around the room, the air grew cold and thick. It made her shiver, yet she knew what it meant. Turning her attention towards the doorway, a figure floated into view. She had dark hair that fell a bit past her shoulders, and she wore a nurse outfit. Misaki recognized her as the nurse in charge of the wing where her room was. Getting her camera out, Misaki readied herself for the encounter.<br><br>"Isha... Watashi wa kanja o mitsuketa..." The nurse spoke in an eerie way that echoed throughout the room as she drifted closer to Misaki, her arms outstretched. Her hands reached for her. Misaki quickly stepped to the side as the nurse lunged at her, missing her completely.<br><br>"Kyō wa setsumei shimasen." Misaki replied, holding the camera up to her eye and looking through the viewfinder.<br><br>The capture circle charged quickly as Misaki locked onto the nurse's face. Instead of taking the picture then, Misaki waited as the nurse took a few steps towards her. Her arms still outstretched, trying to grab the dark haired girl. At the last possible second, the camera chimed and the capture circle glowed and Misaki pressed the shutter button. The fatal frame shot instantly killed the nurse. She held her hands up to against her head and yelled out as she fell to her knees, then slowly vanished.<br><br>Lowering the camera, Misaki took a deep breath. She stored the camera in her bag, and pulled out her flashlight. Clicking it on, she headed towards the door. The moment she opened it, she froze. Nothing looked familiar.<br><br>"Doko I. Gozen.. ?"<br><hr><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Translations</div><div class="spoiler_body">Isha... Watashi wa kanja o mitsuketa... - Doctor... I found the patient...<br>Kyō wa setsumei shimasen. - Not today.<br>Doko I. Gozen.. ? - Where am I...?</div></div>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MabFaerie</strong> on <strong>29-03-2013, 06:22:43</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/b36a2cbe-7ec2-4a0f-83c1-80b5a9177b34_zps94ff6f9e.jpg)</div><strong><span style="font-family: GranthamLight;" class="bbc_font">Aislin McCarthy<br>Childrens Room, West Wing<br>Current Inventory: Messenger Bag, Simple Polaroid Camera, Cell Phone, KeyRing, Wallet, Odd Diary, Notebook and Pens</span></strong><hr><br>Rising slowly from her knelt position, with the diary tucked delicately in her bag, Aislin looked around, peering at the impenetrable darkness, straining her eyes as she tried to make sense of exactly where she was and what she was surrounded by. <br>From the looks of it, she appeared to be located within the confines of a dimly lit room, pitch black save for the bits of light that flooded the room at floor level from the cracks beneath the lone door ahead of her. <br><br>To her right was a forgotten dresser, some of its drawers missing and a few of its handles broken off, it was covered in a thick layer of dust and at a glance seemed to to be growing some form of mold along its outer rim. To her left was a small childs bed, with a ratty, moth-eaten blanket tossed over it. In the corner was a folding screen, but it was too dark to make out the pattern on it. Figuring that standing around would be of no use, Aislin moved forward, trying the handle on the door but surprisingly finding it was locked. <br><br>"I'm... locked in?" She murmured aloud, rather confused. Did the kimono woman lure her in here just to lock her away? That seemed odd, even for her. <br>"Maybe I can find something to pry the door open with." She said softly to herself, turning around to look at the dresser and see if there was any weak wooden bits that could be broken off and used to force the door ajar.&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>Straining her eyes in the dark would be useless if she planned to be able to spot which bit of wood looked weak. Instead, she snagged her camera from her bag and took a few photos, letting the flash of light from the camera light up the dresser for her to see it properly. <br>Despite it's old appearance, the wood of the dresser looked reasonably undamaged. Could the mold have grown recently? Why wasn't it warping the wood and making it brittle or fragmented? There was no way Aislin would be able to damage solid wood on her own, she didn't have the strength. <br><br>As she lowered her camera, a flicker of light not from her own source caught her attention. Something in one of the square spaced where a drawer was missing had reflected the light from her camera. For the brief second it was lit, it had looked long and round, with glinting glass at its tip. Confused, Aislin leaned in close, trying to get a better look.<br><br>Reaching one hand out, she picked it up and brought it close to her eyes, to better examine it. Surprised and pleased, she found it to be a small, flower adored flashlight, seemingly something that would belong to a little girl. Pushing the center switch on it upwards, she was even more delighted to find that it still worked! Turning it over in her hands, she found the bottom was engraved with a single word: 'Nishimura'.<br>&nbsp;<br>"Huh... Nishumura? That sounds familiar. Where have I heard that before?" <br>Before she had time to think it over, the audible creaking of footsteps on wood sounded nearby, followed by a soft and high pitched laughter that seemingly belonged to a child. The sounds occurred not more than a few feet from where she stood, causing her to turn, startled, her camera going off in her hand and snapping a useless shot of the nearby wall, while she fumbled, trying to properly aiming her flashlight in front of her.<br><br>"What was that?" She whispered, the heat of her breath fogging up the now eerily cold air. <br>The laughter sounded again, this time even closer, the footsteps rushing towards her backside. Instinctively, she whirled around, shining the light on the door now, again finding no one, not even a child, there.<br><br>All of a sudden the air around her seemed to still, the flashlight flickered and went out, leaving her alone in the dark, surrounded by maddening silence. As she flicked the flashlights switch off and on again, she felt the panic rising in her chest, squeezing and tightening around her heart and urging her to give in to the fear and anxiety welling up inside her. <br>In the midst of this, she barely noticed the quiet footsteps on wood, creaking up behind her, or the sway of cold wind against the fabric of her clothes, hinting that something sinister was near.<br><br>The first tug on her jacket sleeve made her inhale sharply, frozen in place, to terrified to even look down. <br><br>The tug that followed it, more insistent than the last, was enough to jolt her back to reality. <br><br>Pulling her arm away, Aislin spun sharply, her back to the door once more, to face what awaited her, finding nothing yet again. <br>In a panic, she began giving the flashlight a few firm smacks, somehow against all odds it flickered to life again, its beam of light landing squarely on the little girl, translucent yet semisolid, standing not more than a few inches away from Aislin, smiling bright from ear to ear. <br>No, not smiling. The smile was too wide, curving upwards almost jaggedly so, it was far too round for the little girls face, and oddly too... red. <br>Aislin wasn't sure her mind could properly understand what she was seeing and as the horror of the image sunk in, she could just barely suppress a scream.<br>The little girl lunged towards her first thing, arms wide, as if asking for a hug, only for Aislin to stumble backwards, the knob of the door slamming into her backside, pain shooting through her upper half and causing her to fumble with the camera and flashlight again. The flashlight slipped from her grip and rolled towards the right wall, near the folding screen, while the camera went off in a blast of bright white light, causing a scream to erupt from the smiling girl. <br><br>The girl backed off, glaring at the camera angrily as if it had insulted her. Aislin didn't take any chances and steadied her aim, taking another shot of the girl, assuming that the bright light was what had upset her, daring to add logic and reason to this strange place. <br>With a second and third shot, the girl screamed in a furious rage, shaking her head at Aislin and backing away, casting one final glance to Aislin before turning and running straight through the wall behind her.<br>Straight through it. <br><br>"The hell was that?!" Aislin spat, horrified by the realization that, as much as she didn't want to admit it, she'd just seen a ghost. Or rather, she'd just pissed off a ghost. Great. As if this day could get any worse. <br><br>With trembling hands, Aislin gathered her flashlight from where it had fallen, taking care to make sure everything was still tightened in place and the bulb hadn't been damaged. When all appeared to be in order, she flicked it back on and noticed as the beam landed on a shining silver object near the wall the ghost had run through. <br><br>Approaching the object, Aislin knelt down to find it was a long, black iron key, the base of which had been shaped to look like the face of a doll, with carved button eyes and a permanent smile smeared with red ink.<br>Creepy.<br><br>Slipping the Key onto the keychain in her bag where all her other various keys, such as car, locker and house keys waited, she turned, wondering how she was going to get out of this room.<br>Naturally, she tried the key on the door, but it seemed like the door wasn't locked so much as it was stuck, no amount of keys, even if they were the right ones, would get it open.<br><br>As she stood still, pondering what she could do, the laughter floated back, rushing towards her all at once.<br>"Again?" She exclaimed, angling herself aside so the strange ghost girl could dart past her, exiting out through the door instead of the wall this time.<br>The laughter faded away as quickly as it came, leaving Aislin to wonder if that was the girls way of saying goodbye, but the creaking sound of a door inching out of its initial place bit by bit that followed that fading laughter caught her attention even more.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <br>The door was opening. <br><br>Wasting no time at all, she pushed the door all the way opened and stepped past it, out into a long, dark corridor that seemed to go on for ages. There were windows along the left side wall of the corridor, outside them she could see a small garden and a door that appeared to lead off to somewhere else, possibly a library or study from the vast bookshelf she could just barely make out, but there was no door out to it on her side, as far as she could tell. At the end of the hallway, there appeared to be a room, but it was so far away that Aislin didn't really wish to bother with it at the moment.<br>Immediately to her right upon leaving the Childs Room was another door. When she tried the handle, it jiggled a bit and turned, reluctantly, but when she moved to push the door, it wouldn't yield. Something was blocking it and she wasn't strong enough to push it out of the way from this end, alone. <br><br>With no other doors available, Aislin begrudgingly set out down the long hallway, feeling uneasy and cold as she passed the too-small windows, wishing they were just a little bigger for her to fit through so she could make her way towards the room she saw across from the garden. <br>Aislin knew it was likely that she wouldn't find anything in there but musty old books, but even if that was the case, any decent library would likely have a section devoted to its own personal grounds. If not for its own knowledge, but for impressing visitors. <br>If she could find information on where she was, maybe even a blueprint of such the place, then maybe could find an easier path around it that didn't involve so much unsettling silence and guesswork. <br><br>Alas, it didn't seem like that was going to be her option right then, and as she neared the far end door, surprised to find it was much smaller up close, she knelt, crouching down on all fours to crawl through its opening into the room. Once she was through the door, it swung shut behind her, seeming to be made of a heavier wood than she'd anticipated. <br>Once she was standing upright, she looked around, greeted by an array of very old, eerily well kept and strikingly pretty dolls. The room was even lit by small doll-shaped candle holders in varying spots, offering her a well-lit showcase of the rooms contents.<br>There were more traditional Japanese dolls wearing kimonos or ceremonial garb that lined many of the rooms shelves, as well as a supply of more simple button-eyed ragdolls, or tiny wooden dolls with painted on faces and clothes. Any type of doll she could think of seemed to be represented there and she wondered if perhaps collecting dolls was the owner of this houses hobby.<br>All of the dolls seemed to be small and lightweight, with the exception of a few heavier porcelain dolls that were barred off from the other by ropes or glass cases mounted high above the chest-height shelves of the other dolls. <br>As Aislin moved further into the Doll Room, something off in the corner caught her eye. Something big, as big as Aislin herself was, but crouched and clad in white.<br>It took her a moment to realize just what she was looking at. Another ghost?!<br><br>Raising her camera to take a shot, Aislin stopped. This girl was huddled up into herself, clinging to her own frame in what Aislin assumed must have been fright. She lacked the unsettling translucent quality that the odd little girl had possessed. This figure looked very solid and, justifiably so, very scared.<br>"Uhm... Hello?" Aislin called out cautiously. "I... I'm Aislin... who... are you?" 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Teo Torriatte</strong> on <strong>30-03-2013, 15:05:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/3d87bccc-3262-498c-9304-e5ce4bd1ac06_zps54265354.jpg)</div>Cassie continued to tremble in fear as she tried to calm herself down. She had no idea where she was, what was going on, if she was even awake or asleep... then again given her dreams that was often the case. She took deep, slow breaths, and was just starting to feel calm enough to stand and take a look around, when she heard footsteps from somewhere outside whatever room she was in. Who could be there with her in such a strange place? The first name that came to her was Malcolm, if this was another nightmare then surely it was Malcolm come to torment her yet again.<br><br>"Malcolm?" she called out just as she noticed the shadowy figure lower a... camera? She looked down at her own camera, thinking that was more than a bit of an odd coincidence, not that Cassie really believed in such things. Most things that seemed strange or unlikely happened for a reason, even if the reason crept out of the realm of the normal and into the paranormal. The only thing she willingly held onto from her time in the coven was an open mind. But even given that, this whole situation was still starting to scare the shit out of her.<br><br>At least it didn't turn out to be Malcolm, after all, standing before her, but a very pretty young woman whom she had never seen before. "Aislin... I'm... Cassandra. Are you... is any of this... real?" she was still huddled in her corner, and not sure she wanted to move, but not sure she didn't either. "I must still be dreaming," she continued, sort of answering her own question but not seeming to be satisfied with, or to truly believe, her own answer. "Dreaming or not, do you know where this is? I seem to have found my way here, only I have no idea where 'here' is or really how I got here."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kitakaze</strong> on <strong>30-03-2013, 20:35:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/84ff483c-a05f-4f5c-86d1-6e055251a06e_zps5e4795f7.jpg)</div><br><strong> John Nakajima<br>Unknown location<br>Inventory: Messenger bag, cellphone, strange journal, note pad, pens, pocket magnifying glass/reading lens, keyring.</strong><br><hr>After a frustratingly fitful five hours of sleep, John woke to an incongruously sunny, cheerful morning. Grumbling quietly to himself, he quickly showered and dressed before shuffling to the counter to heat water for his morning coffee. Once he had a few sips of the potent brew, admittedly stronger than most would consider potable, he was feeling human enough to start planning his course of action for the day. Fortunately most of his classes only required students be present for exams and lectures, which meant he could take his time at the library researching and crosschecking whatever he could find.<br><br>Exactly what he was looking for, he wasn't sure, but as he warily glanced over the rim of his mug at the seemingly normal journal on his desk, he had a feeling something would pop up... He had to suppress a shiver at the memory of the odd compound dream which had kept him from a proper night's sleep. Just who, or more probably what, had been there behind him?<br><br>Blinking in mild surprise at himself, John gave his head a slight shake. "<em>Nannen wa</em><sup>1</sup>... It was just a dream, I shouldn't let it get me distracted..." Finishing off his coffee, he sighed and set the mug in the sink. He wouldn't, no he couldn't, dismiss this all as a coincidence or simply a case of overworked nerves. If there was even the slightest chance of something spiritual, or otherwise supernatural going on, well... It would certainly make for an interesting story, at the very least.<br><br>After a quick shower and dressing, John pulled on a light jacket and, after a brief internal debate, placed the strange journal in his messenger bag without looking in it. The last thing he needed was to be distracted by seeing his own thoughts spelled out before his eyes, practically before he could sort through them himself. Putting that out of his mind for the moment, he grabbed his phone, keys, and a spare note pad, reassuringly mundane, and headed out for the library.<br><hr><br>"Shouron wo moutahen nakatta<sup>2</sup>... Nrgh... The more I read, the more I'm convinced Takamine-Sensei was on to something... If only he hadn't gone to that mansion..." John scratched the back of his head in frustration at the lack of solid information contained within the stacks of books he had gathered into the private reading room and stacked about the table before himself, higher than the top of his head. All he needed was something to point the right way and he could figure out the next step forward, but aside from a small news article detailing his disappearance, it was almost as though Takamine had simply vanished altogether.<br><br>With a sigh, John stretched his arms overhead until he felt his spine give a satisfying pop, releasing some of the tension from staying hunched over for so long. With a glance he had to estimate there were at least two dozen books remaining in his "unread" pile, but he was starting to think that he might be approaching this from the wrong angle. He was looking for information on supernatural objects, so why wouldn't he try to make use of the very subject of his curiosity?&nbsp; Deciding that made as much sense as just digging through more semi-related information, he pulled the strange journal from his bag and set it on the table, eyeing it warily for a moment as he re-convinced himself that opening it really was a good idea.<br><br>The page marker had definitely moved since last night, at least twenty pages more were jammed with his mixed writing, though it became much more crowded on the recent pages, reflecting the moderate sense of chaos he felt his thoughts were trying to form out of. Nothing terribly useful, as far as he could tell, just more unsettling self-writing notes. He was about to dismiss the idea as a waste of time when he turned the most recent page and found a scrap of yellowed paper folded up and pressed into the book.<br><br>It was a hand written note, very neatly written, the penmanship of a professional as far as he could tell...<br><br><em> The man is gradually more and more influenced by the legends. The work will be the story of this man, proceeding in parallel with the tales of the local lore. Records of the past discovered after an earthquake. The story gradually blurs the boundary between the present and the past...</em><br><br>Blinking in surprise, John set the scrap down beside the journal as quickly as if it were on fire.<em>This was written by Takamine-sensei, about his new work... But how?! Sonnai wa<sup>3</sup>...</em> The words appeared so quickly that he couldn't be sure whether he was thinking them or reading them first, and John suddenly felt the overwhelming surety of being watched return full-force. This time, however, he felt the temperature in the room drop just as quickly as his stomach, and rather than creep up on him silently, whatever was there was making a strange scraping, dragging sound as it approached the door to the reading room.<br><br>With every passing moment John felt the tension in his chest winding tighter and tighter. Just like before, he just knew that whatever was there had less than pleasant intentions, and he needed to do something about it... and this time he actually managed to get himself to move. As quickly as he could while keeping silent, he scooped up his notes and the journal and stuffed them into his bag, his eyes never leaving the door.<br><br>The dragging sound was replaced just outside the room by a slow, dull scratching along the door itself, as though long nails or something sharp were being run down the frame. Unable to completely crush his curiosity, John found himself edging silently to the door, one hand hesitantly raised to the handle, the other tightly gripping the shoulder strap of his bag. Just before his fingertips reached the door, the sounds stopped entirely, which unnerved him at least as much by itself, but of course at that moment the overhead lights flickered out as well.<br><br>Caught up again in the uneasy sense of indecision between his instincts and sense of investigative curiosity, John took a few steps back towards the table, pulling his phone from his pocket add he did, for what sparse light it could provide. He briefly considered the possibility that he had fallen asleep while reading again, but that theory was shattered when he felt something grab him around the ankle painfully tight. <em>"Shimotaa!</em><sup>4</sup>" Stumbling in fright, he jerked his foot away and spun to face his attacker, backing quickly against the door with his phone thrust out before himself like a protective talisman.<br><br>Peering out from under the table was a pair of dark eyes glittering sharply in the pale light. It appeared to be a young woman propped up on her elbows, one hand still outstretched towards him, as though beseeching him for help. "<em>Ashi... Watashi no ashi... doko desu ka?<sup>5</sup></em>" Her not-quite echoing words only confused him at first, and John was about to respond when the... entity brought her other hand forward with a scraping sound that raised the hair on the back of his neck. As she began dragging herself out from under the table, the source of the sound was revealed to be a large scythe, mottled with rust. If that wasn't enough to get John moving, seeing that she was missing more than her legs certainly was. Her torso ended just about where her hips should have been, in a ragged, gory mess.<br><br>Needing no more motivation, and certainly not wanting to test the dream theory further, John whipped around, threw open the door, and dashed through, slamming the door shut behind him. His heart was pounding so powerfully that he could feel his pulse in his hands as he held the door shut with all of his weight. Quickly glancing up and down the hall, hoping to see someone not menacing, he felt his heart pick up even more. He was not in the library hall, or anywhere on campus that he recognized. It looked like he was in an old fashioned, somewhat derelict mansion, the only light in the hall was coming faintly through the slit windows spread intermittently down the hall, and faintly there looked to be... Someone with a flashlight! Not bothering with subtlety, he called out, hoping to get an answer he could understand, "Oya! This... Dare ga?! Ningen ka?!<sup>6</sup>"<br><br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Translation</div><div class="spoiler_body"><sup>1.</sup>What the heck<br><sup>2.</sup>I haven't gotten any answers<br><sup>3.</sup>That can't be...<br><sup>4.</sup>Shit!<br><sup>5.</sup>Legs... My legs... Where are they?<br><sup>6.</sup>Hey! This... Who's there?! Are you a person?!<br></div></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DarkRose15</strong> on <strong>30-03-2013, 21:58:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/ed0cf5a0-35ab-4899-b813-6b898008d3ee_zps058f17ca.jpg)</div><br><br>"Where the hell am I....?" Kaelyn spoke, her voice soft and with a hint of fear. This place felt bad it felt....sour. Just looking around she could get a better idea of where she was. She was in a room, very dimly lit. Cobwebs appeared and floated in the air, and a dank smell filled her nostrils. This was not good. Not good at all. She quickly got herself up, swallowing her fear to get something of an idea of what this place was all about. Was it just a vivid dream? It wouldn't be the first time.<br><br>As she took in the room, she felt even more creeped out than before. Surrounding her were quite a few ancient looking ceremonial dolls of some sort. They all sat neatly in their rows, lined up along the walls. She couldn't explain it, it felt like she was being watched. <br><br>Kaelyn fought hard against her inherited madness, but when it came to ghosts she didn't think she was crazy. She <em>knew</em> there were ghosts, and she spent her time avoiding them with a passion. Now she somehow felt like she was stuck in a hotbed of spiritual activity from whence she would never leave. It chilled her, but she frowned. "I'm getting out of this god forsaken shithole." she said. <br><br>She looked where she'd been laying on the floor and saw her bag was with her, as well as her camera. She rummaged through to see if she had anything else, but alas she was sadly screwed. Swallowing hard, she grabbed her bag and tried to leave the room.<br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>persephone325</strong> on <strong>31-03-2013, 03:42:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100401191448/fatalframe/images/c/c2/Misaki_Asou1.png)<br></div><strong>Misaki Asou<br>Not sure where she is</strong><br><hr>Misaki stood there, dumbfounded. She certainly wasn't back in her house. But the door leading out into what <em>should have</em> been a familiar hallway, wasn't. It was a hallway, but there were no other rooms like the one she was in. One door looked to be for a closet, and everything was just confusing.<br><br>"What the hell is going on here?" Misaki held her head in her hands, and thought she faintly heard the Tsukimori Song again. She jerked her head up and shined the flashlight up and down the hallway. "Where is that coming from??" She wondered aloud, thinking she might just be going genuinely insane. Who wouldn't, after all she had been through?<br><br><em>"Oya! This... Dare ga?! Ningen ka?!"</em> A voice called out. It sounded...normal. Human, to be precise. At least she hoped it was human...<br><br>"Dare gadesu ka?" She called out, thinking she could see the outline of a person further down the hall. It was moving towards her, and Misaki was a bit afraid. But she knew that if it did turn out to be a ghost, she had the camera with her.<br><br>Without thinking, Misaki ran towards the figure. Her flashlight moving wildly along the walls. The bag around her shoulder bouncing up and down, smacking against her hip and the clicking of her shoes on the old wood of the floor echoed throughout the hall.<br><br>As she drew closer to the figure, she shined the beam on it. It looked to be a male, a bit taller than her, with a haircut similar to Haibara. The man who kidnapped her when she was younger. Finally getting close enough to him, she slowed her pace to a hurried walk until she was in front of him. Trying to catch her breath, she held her hand to her chest and shined the light towards his face. Though not enough to blind him. Now that she was close enough to him, she could see that he was dressed in a strange way. It was something Misaki had never seen before.<br><br>"Anata dare?" She asked, looking him up and down. "Who...are you?" Misaki repeated, wondering if he understood her the first time. He looked to be of Japanese descent, but Misaki didn't want to assume he would understand Japanese.<br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Translations</div><div class="spoiler_body">Dare gadesu ka? - Who's there?<br>Anata dare? - Who are you?</div></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kitakaze</strong> on <strong>02-04-2013, 02:33:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/84ff483c-a05f-4f5c-86d1-6e055251a06e_zps5e4795f7.jpg)</div><br><strong> John Nakajima<br>2nd Floor Hallway<br></strong><br><hr>Still holding his weight against the door, John was reasonably sure that he couldn't get much more tense as the other figure hurried down the hall towards him, but considering he heard her call out and she was making relatively normal footsteps... Well, it was less worrying than whatever was on the other side of the door. When they were close enough to properly see one another, John blinked both at the light, and in surprise at the normal looking girl before him. Clearly Japanese, she looked to be no older than a high school student.<br><br>At her hesitant question, he inclined his head in an implied bow, in lieu of letting go of the door. "Boku wa Nakajima John desu. Nihongo to ka Eigo to ka docchi mo ee wa. Ansasn wa?<sup>1.</sup> Do you know what this place is? I-!" He jumped slightly as there was a sudden slam against the door at about waist-height, and moved his body away from the door while leaning against it with his arms. His heart was hammering away again, and he really couldn't think clearly enough to do much else for the moment. "Nanika... <sup>2.</sup> I don't know, a ghost? In that room, it was coming after me..." He shook his head slightly, as if to clear it, and tried not to frown. Just saying that out loud sounded a bit, well, crazy. Or it would if not for the scratching of the scythe blade against the door.<br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Translation</div><div class="spoiler_body"><sup>1.</sup> I'm Nakajima John. Japanese or English are fine either way. And you are?<br><sup>2.</sup> Something...<br></div></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>persephone325</strong> on <strong>02-04-2013, 08:07:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100401191448/fatalframe/images/c/c2/Misaki_Asou1.png)<br></div><strong>Misaki Asou<br>2nd floor hallway with John</strong><br><hr>Misaki looked at him and nodded. "Misaki." She replied. No sooner than she had opened her mouth to speak again, she was interrupted by a loud bang on the door John was leaning against. He had said something about a ghost, and Misaki wasn't surprised. She watched him jump and spin around, bracing the door. Seeming to try and keep the spirit out.<br><br>"John. If it's a ghost, it's going to come through the door no matter what." Misaki said in a calm voice. Her mellow tone would probably confused him, but this was something that didn't bother her much anymore. However, she was still a bit nervous as she heard the continuous scratching at the door.<br><br>Misaki felt the air grow thick and cold. Deathly cold. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and a shiver crept up her spine. Her eyes grew wide, and she pulled John away from the door with urgent force. No sooner than she did so, the point of a sharp weapon pierced the door where John's right hand would have been.<br><br>"We need to get out of here! Now!" She whispered urgently. Misaki grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway towards her room. She ran as fast as she could until they reached the entrance for her room. Looking down the hall, the spirit was opening the door and looking around the hall. Misaki shoved John into the room and quickly shut the door. She knew she wouldn't be able to fight this ghost with the camera. There was something different about it...<br><br>"Shh! Stay quiet!" Misaki put a finger to her lips as she leaned against the door, listening to see when the coast would be clear.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kitakaze</strong> on <strong>02-04-2013, 20:49:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/84ff483c-a05f-4f5c-86d1-6e055251a06e_zps5e4795f7.jpg)</div><br><strong> John Nakajima <br>2nd Floor Hallway, with Misaki<br></strong><br><hr>While her steady tone was completely at odds with the current situation, as far as John was concerned, it was mildly reassuring to have someone there who had some idea of what was happening. At her words, he glanced worriedly back at the door. She was probably right, but he couldn't just not do anything...<br><br>He felt a shiver creep its way up his back as the temperature dropped again, working on his nerves together with the scraping sound against the door. "Tabbun honmari wa... Kedo.<sup>1.</sup> <span style="font-family: arial black;" class="bbc_font">What are we supposed to do, then? It-</span>!" He cut off with the sudden tug on his arm back from the door, his eyes widening as well at the slightly curved, hand long section of blade stitching through the door. After that, he mutely nodded and simply hurried to keep from being dragged by the hand down the hallway.<br><br>Glancing over his shoulder as they ran, John had to fight back a surge of panic. That thing was already through and looking for them, and he had the distinct impression that it was angry. He stumbled slightly when Misaki suddenly pushed him into a room, but was able to catch his balance at the last minute and turned to watch anxiously as she shut and leaned against the door. He nodded and held his breath when she shushed him.<br><br>Even over the pounding of his pulse in his ears, John could hear the dragging and scraping of the body and blade alternately, coming down the hall. <em>"Doko desu kaa? Ashi gaa...<sup>2.</sup>"</em> As the sounds stopped at the door, he clutched at the strap of his bag so tightly that his knuckles whitened. There was silence for a few moments, then the scraping resumed, this time moving away from them. When it finally was silent again, save for the pounding of his heart, he let out a shuddering breath and half slumped into a crouch. <span style="font-family: arial black;" class="bbc_font">"What... What is going on, Misaki-han... I was at the campus library, and then this place..."</span><br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Translation</div><div class="spoiler_body"><sup>1.</sup>That's probably true... But.<br><sup>2.</sup>Where are they? My legs...<br></div></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>persephone325</strong> on <strong>03-04-2013, 03:47:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100401191448/fatalframe/images/c/c2/Misaki_Asou1.png)<br></div><strong>Misaki Asou<br>2nd floor hallway with John</strong><br><hr>Misaki held her breath as the scraping sound got louder. Closer. She looked at John, and the look of pure terror on his face reminded her of how Marie and Tomoe looked when they died. It brought back some sad memories.<br><br>She tore her gaze from him and held the door knob in place, preventing it from being turned. Exhaling slowly, Misaki heard the scraping continue down the hall until she could no longer hear it.<br><br><span style="font-family: arial black;" class="bbc_font">"What... What is going on, Misaki-han... I was at the campus library, and then this place..."</span> She heard John say.<br><br>"I... I've never seen that ghost before." Misaki shook her head as she thought, trying to wrap her head around the situation. "College? What college?" She turned to face him, leaning against the door. The more information she could figure out, the better off she might be in piecing together what this all meant. Though there was one question that was nagging at her since she met John...<br><br>"Are you related to You Haibara?" Misaki couldn't stop the words as they left her mouth.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashena</strong> on <strong>04-04-2013, 09:12:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Suggestions/9f0acbb3-291e-469f-880c-8fc803fb7a89_zps09e52d93.jpg)</div>&nbsp; <br>Name: Kassil Valewalker<br>Where: Second floor wandering down hallways. <br>Thinking: Scared and confused. <br>=========================================================================================================================================================<br><br>Kassil moved from the doorway out into the hallway, if she were in the town house she knew the bottom floor would be exactly the same layout as the upper floor. She could only assume her bunk mates had been playing a joke on her. She knew them to be pranksters but this was a little excessive. "Kat, come one" she called out this time her voice sounded a little more desperate. She figured if she made it sound like she was angry&nbsp; or hurt than her roommates would laugh it off and try and calm her down. However, her plan did not seem&nbsp; to be working as no one responded to her. As she moved forward her cane stopped hard against. The back wall. Her eyes furrowed and the look of the confusion over whelmed her features. "Guys?" She called out again. It had become readily apparent that she was not in her building. The structure was different as was the layout. Something was wrong but she could not figure out what yet. Kassil called out a few more times but to no avail there had been no responses. <br><br>The wall forced her to turn to the right. Looking at her it would not be hard to tell she was scared, her lips quivered and her brows furrowed. Even the hand that held the back end of her cane shook.&nbsp; A foreign tongue caught her ears, she could not recognize the speaker which meant it had been someone she had not encountered before. She could not understand the words or what they meant but if she had to guess it would be Japanese or Chinese, or possible some variation of the two. The voice did not sound like it was to far away. Kassil headed off towards the noise, she could hear muffled voices and from what she could make out she did not know who they were either. "Hello? Who is there? What is..." Kassil stopped when she felt her body tense, her arms formed small goosebumps the entire length of her arm. There was only one thing that made her get goosebumps and she had not felt them in years. She knew instantly it was a ghost. The goosebumps were the first sign, she would get them around fifteen feet away give or take obstacles in the way. As they got closer she could actually pin point there location. This one had been to her left, the feeling was strong which meant it was not all that far off. Using her cane she felt around realizing the hallway went off in that direction. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cosmo_ac</strong> on <strong>05-04-2013, 03:38:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/6557dd01-d466-4b53-a243-f2aa3370203a_zpsec287b1f.jpg)<br><br><strong>Name: Duncan<br>Where he's at: Desperately trying to come out of the closet</strong><br><br>If this was some sort of joke, Duncan wasn't impressed.&nbsp; As to who might be playing such a joke, he didn't have a clue, but for something like this, maybe it was the same person who was screwing with him with the Journal?&nbsp; He didn't know, and at this point he didn't care.&nbsp; What he did care about was the fact he was in the fucking dark.&nbsp; Reaching into his front pocket, Duncan gave a sigh of relief when he found he trusty zippo lighter.&nbsp; Good thing he had just refilled it tonight.&nbsp; He just hopped to God this wasn't going to be like one of those old cartoons, where the cayote lights a match, and finds he's in a room full of dynamite.&nbsp; Yeah, that would really suck, though the thought brought a much needed smile to his face.<br><br>The sparks from his lighter as he spun the flintwheel told Duncan that he was in a small room, and a second later the flame came alive.&nbsp; Holding the lighter up, Duncan did a slow circle.&nbsp; He was in a closet.&nbsp; He could see several linnens on shelves, and what looked like an old fashioned whisk broom in the corner.&nbsp; He turned around again, and spotted the door.&nbsp; It looked like one of those japanese sliding doors you saw in the anime he sometimes watched.&nbsp; Reaching a hand out, Duncan tried to open the door, and found it sliding open with ease.&nbsp; Well, that was one thing.<br><br>Slowly coming out of the closset, Duncan looked around.&nbsp; He could see halway going left and right.&nbsp; Or at least he could see it as far as his lighter would let him.&nbsp; He needed to find some candles, or a lamp, or a flashlight.&nbsp; Hell, a fucking torch would make him happy right now.&nbsp; Even though Zippo's in movies seem to last for hours, he knew he only had maybe five to ten minutes absolute tops before the fuel would be sucked out of the zippo.&nbsp; After a moment of hesitation, Duncan began to walk to the left, and even though he was a little worried, he decided to call out anyway.&nbsp; "Anybody there?&nbsp; Hello?"&nbsp; Duncan spoke just under a shout.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DarkRose15</strong> on <strong>05-04-2013, 04:23:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/ed0cf5a0-35ab-4899-b813-6b898008d3ee_zps058f17ca.jpg)</div><br><br>"Holy shit!" Kaelyn jumped as she heard a closet open behind her. She was about to scream in terror thinking she'd become a victim to a hostile spirit, but she was quite relieved to see someone not of the otherworldly persuasion. "Yeah....Yeah I'm here." she said, but she didn't speak up as loudly as he did. She walked over, still uncertain.<br><br>"Do you know where we are at all? This place is fucking creepy." she said, looking around. She could've sworn the dolls were looking at her. Following her every movement though their heads remained still. "Is this some sort of crazy dream?" she asked, trying not to look at the creepy inanimate creations in the room. The flames of the zippo lighter helped her focus on something else.<br><br>"I'm Kaelyn, by the way. I figure at least I can introduce myself. I hope that lighter has enough juice to last us until we can find a better light." she said, trying to be upbeat.<br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kitakaze</strong> on <strong>05-04-2013, 18:55:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/84ff483c-a05f-4f5c-86d1-6e055251a06e_zps5e4795f7.jpg)</div><br><strong> John Nakajima <br>2nd Floor, room 301<br>With Misaki<br></strong><br><hr><span style="font-family: arial black;" class="bbc_font">"Osaka University, obviously... <em>datte naa...</em><sup>1.</sup> Maybe it isn't obvious..."</span> He shook his head slightly and forced himself to stand upright and try to get his heart rate under control. Now that the immediate threat was gone, or at least out of sight, he had a moment to look over his rescuer. For all he could see, she was just a normal girl, albeit one who apparently thought of violent spirits as nothing out of the ordinary.<br><br>While she leaned back against the door, she seemed somewhat nervous watching him in return, though he had no clue why that would be. He wasn't particularly imposing, and his looks weren't that far from normal... At her question he furrowed his brow in thought. <span style="font-family: arial black;" class="bbc_font">"You Haibara? Not that I know... No, I'm sure I don't have any family by that name. Why do you ask, is he involved in this too?"</span><br><br>John wasn't sure yet whether or not more people being here would be a good thing, or just attract more of those ghosts. Although, thinking about that scythe, safety in numbers sounded pretty good... <span style="font-family: arial black;" class="bbc_font">&nbsp; "Eh? Matte... Dareka kiiteraremasu wa...</span> <sup>2.</sup>" He turned his head slightly, focusing to hear. It had sounded like someone speaking in English... <span style="font-family: arial black;" class="bbc_font"> "Did you hear that, Misaki-han?"</span><br><br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Translation</div><div class="spoiler_body"><sup>1.</sup> Though, actually...<br><sup>2.</sup> Eh? Wait... I can hear somebody...<br></div></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>persephone325</strong> on <strong>06-04-2013, 00:00:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100401191448/fatalframe/images/c/c2/Misaki_Asou1.png)<br></div><strong>Misaki Asou<br>2nd floor hallway with John</strong><br><hr><em>Osaka University...</em> Misaki nodded slowly to herself. Though she still wondered why he was dressed so strangely.<br><br>"He kidnapped me when I was a girl." The short haired Asian replied. "Though I doubt he has anything to do with this directly. He's dead." She added. Though before Misaki could say anything more, she thought she heard someone else. But it was faint. She was about to brush it off as her hearing things, when John brought it up as well.<br><br>"I hear it." Misaki replied, before opening the door. "Ikou!" She motioned for John to follow her as she ventured out into the hallway.<br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Translation</div><div class="spoiler_body">Ikou - Let's go</div></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Karasu</strong> on <strong>06-04-2013, 14:39:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Yoko sat playing with simple playdoh, something she highly enjoied playing with, in the house she shared with Yojiro. A woman sat nearby reading a book, commenting every so often to Yoko. "Hai, hijo ni kireidesu Yoko.(1)" She said as Yoko showed her something she had made from the stuff, a little camera like the disposables that Yojiro used sometimes. "Ani.. Watashi wa ani o minogasu..(2)" She said softly as she began to sob, rather sudden as a change of mood it was the female only patted her on the back and let her hg the young girl. "There there dearie, I am sure Yojiro-sama will be back soon and then everything will be as it was." She said and Yoko sniffed, it seemed to comfort her that this woman said Yojiro would come back soon. "I miss him.." She said in that soft, ghostly little voice of hers.<br><br>Later in the evening as Yoko was getting out of the tub and dressing for bed, the older woman called her. "Yoko dear, I've got a surprise for you!" Yoko smiled and came down, looking curios at the small package she held. "What is that Ms. Hinageshi?" She asked, her voice still soft and ghostly, though almost of a normal pitch now. "It's from your brother dear, He sent you a present." Yoko's eyes lit right up as she was told this, and she eagerly took the package nad opened it, only to seem confused at the contents. "A dairy?" She questioned, but she held it tightly. "mm Well maybe he thought you'd like it dear, it is old and rather pretty looking, why don't you go write in it and I'll lock up the house for bed." the older woman said as Yoko headed upstairs to bed.<br><br>During the night she was plagued with dreams, dreams of Yojiro actually..<br><br>"Josei.. Kimono no josei ga.. Yoko.. Tasukete!(3)" Yoko sat up in bed, nearly screaming: "Ototo!(4)" She panted, she saw her brother runnign for his life while something. a kimono.. chased him.. then.. then.. It was gone.. "ototo.. Where are you ototo?" She sniffed and looked at the diary, which was suddenly open despite the fact she knew she had closed it.. Even stranger was the fact that her handwriting was in the book, her kind of sloppy script, with her full name and everything, exactly like she would write if she ever did write. Yojiro always used her full name on papers too.. "Brother.. what is this thing you've sent me?" She whispered, though the older woman came up just a moment later. "Yoko dear! Are you alright?" To which Yoko nodded at the concerned woman. "I'm fine, I just had a nightmare again.." The woman smiled at her and sat on the edge of her bed. "Now daerie, remember what I told you to get rid of those aweful bad dreams?" Yoko giggled. "Laugh at them and they will hold me no sway." She said as the woman made funny faces which made her laugh happily, and afte a round of laughter, the woman kissed her forehead and tucked her back in. "Now you get back to sleep, and save writing in that book for the morning alright?" She said in a playful little scold, closing the diary. "Yess Ms. Hinageshi, Good Night." She said as she rolled over and fell asleep.<br><br>Though she woke up again early that morning, she dreamed of Yojiro again, the same scene once more, something was going on adn she had to find her brother.. 'Something terrible has happened I just know it..' her mind whispered to itself. She grabbed a simple backpack, stuffed a couple of things like a flashlight and the entire contents of her piggybank (all 54 Yen of it) and the Dairy, she tiptoed downstairs in that silent way she had, grabbing some snacks from the fridge in a surprising amount of coherence for her. Though one could argue that her worry for her brother was actually allowing her to focus on this task. Yoko knew how to drive and she actually had a motorized scooter, for her good days when Yojiro would let her drive around or go to the store. She took her cell phone and the keys to said scooter. Ms. Hinageshi would wake up later to a note that said that she was going to take the book to a shrine in town and would return later. As the note appeared coherently written the older woman just sighed, Yoko had her moments so she wasn't that worried. "I will pray for you dearie, get home safetly." She said to thin air.<br><br><br><br><br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Translations</div><div class="spoiler_body">Yes yoko, that's very pretty.<br><br>Brother.. I miss my brother..<br><br>the woman.. the woman of the kimono.. yoko.. Help me!<br><br>Brother!</div></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kitakaze</strong> on <strong>07-04-2013, 00:24:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/84ff483c-a05f-4f5c-86d1-6e055251a06e_zps5e4795f7.jpg)</div><br><strong> John Nakajima <br>2nd Floor Hallway<br>With: Misaki (Tagged: Kassil)<br></strong><br><hr>Upon hearing Misaki mention having been kidnapped, and her former attacker's death, with such a calm demeanor, John nodded slowly. He was fairly certain now that there was more to this girl than he had first thought. While he was relieved that she heard the voice too, he was somewhat taken aback by how quickly she decided to go investigate. With only a moment of hesitation, he followed after her into the darkened hall, he couldn't just let her go off alone... Not that he liked the thought of being alone in this place, himself...<br><br>The narrow beam of her flashlight helped, but it was small enough that his eyes were starting to adjust somewhat to the darkness now. The architecture of the place was pretty old, add his initial glances had suggested, but it almost seemed like there were bits and pieces of more recent forms worked in, but only with the doors themselves.<br><br>As they neared the end of the hall, a new figure almost seemed to materialize, and John felt a new jolt of fear at the faint click of something taping the ground, but then this figure was standing upright and the air was still breathable... Deciding to take a risk, since his companion didn't seem too worried, he softly called out, not wanting to scare the other person, if it was a person, "Sokoo kimi...<sup>1.</sup> Um, hello? Is someone there? Can you understand me?"<br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Translation</div><div class="spoiler_body"><sup>1.</sup> You there...<br>*Blue text = spoken Japanese<br>*black text = spoken English<br></div></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashena</strong> on <strong>07-04-2013, 01:42:54</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Suggestions/9f0acbb3-291e-469f-880c-8fc803fb7a89_zps09e52d93.jpg)</div>&nbsp; <br>Name: Kassil Valewalker<br>Where: Second floor wandering down hallways. <br>Thinking: Scared and confused. <br>===========================================================================================================================================<br>The cold air around her indicating there was a ghost near by&nbsp; , had slowly gone away. The goosebumps on her arm ceased as well. What ever it was the ghost was to far away for her to feel or communicate with. The hand holding the cane still trembled slightly as the end touched between the wall and the floor. She had been forming a mental image in her mind of what the place looked like. Surely it would not have been as good as actually seeing the place, but Kassil worked with what she had.<br><br>A voice rang out from somewhere down the hall, at first she could not understand what it had said the sane foreign speech. Though directly after the voice spoke English. Kassil lifted her left arm so that she could rub her fingers over her right forearm; as she expected the goosebumps were gone so it could not have been a ghost. "Uh, yeah. Yeah I can hear and understand you. Uh, I ... I think I'm in a hallway" using the hand with the cane she would reach out to the wall to feel around for any indication or door jams to which she found none. There was confusion in her voice lased with fear, anyone could easy spot that dispute how calm the woman may have looked at the time.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>persephone325</strong> on <strong>07-04-2013, 02:16:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100401191448/fatalframe/images/c/c2/Misaki_Asou1.png)<br></div><strong>Misaki Asou<br>2nd floor hallway with John</strong><br><hr>Misaki headed closer to where she could hear the voice. The flashlight was very helpful as she scanned the beam up and down the hallway. A quick glance back showed John on her heels as they both hurried down the hall.<br><br>As they got closer, Misaki could see the figure was a young woman. Though from her voice, she seemed rather confused. Misaki couldn't understand why she said she <em>thought</em> she was in a hallway. Misaki knew it was dark, but it was something your eyes would adjust to without any trouble. As the pair got closer, Misaki could understand what she meant by "thought".<br><br>The young woman was holding a cane that was tapping along the floor. It became rather obvious that she was blind. But Misaki, again, noticed how strange her clothing looked. Where were they getting such strange attire...?<br><br>"Hello. I'm Misaki." The young Asian introduced herself.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kitakaze</strong> on <strong>07-04-2013, 04:04:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/84ff483c-a05f-4f5c-86d1-6e055251a06e_zps5e4795f7.jpg)</div><br><strong> John Nakajima <br>2nd Floor Hallway<br>With: Misaki,&nbsp; Kassil<br></strong><br><hr><br>John felt a wave of relief wash over him at the normal, though scared, sounding voice that responded. He wondered at her coment though, thinking that maybe she had just lost a light source of her own. Once they reached her he raised his eyebrows in mild surprise, she looked somewhere between Misaki and him in age, but other than that and being foreign, he couldn't tell much. Her cane took a moment to place, but when he saw the red tip he blinked in realization at what the tapping had been. Not wanting to be rude, whether he was actually staring or not, he scuffed his shoe slightly on the wooden floor and stopped just about arms length from her. "Ah, yes, this hall seems to go on for a while. I'm John, by the way. Are you alright? We haven't run in to anyone else so far..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ashena</strong> on <strong>07-04-2013, 07:58:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Suggestions/9f0acbb3-291e-469f-880c-8fc803fb7a89_zps09e52d93.jpg)</div>&nbsp; <br>Name: Kassil Valewalker<br>Where: Upstairs hallway.<br>Mood: happy now That she is with others.<br>===========≠=========================================<br><br>She could hear footsteps moving towards her, the beat of the steps had been off for it to have only been one person. She counted only two different patterns. With that in mind one was certainly lighter on there feet than the other. She assumed the later was the males voice who she has heard while the other was more likely female... or a younger person. It was not until Misaki spoke that her original thought was confirmed. Kassil followed the sounds with her head and positioned her body she she would be facing them. While her eyes wandered her head looked relatively in the right direction. <br><br>Kassil's head and eyes snapped over to the left at the sound of John scuffing his foot against the floor. His voice was much closer than his female companion. Moving the cane over to her left hand Kassil would slowly raise her right hand palm down. This served two purposes the first to determine if he was within arm's reach, and if he was weather or not he was solid. (She was still not entirely convinced he was not a ghost.) The second was for a handshake a friendly greeting. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Kassil, as for being alright well I am fairly certain by now I am late for class. I have figured out by now I am not in my townhouse. Beyond that I am not sure where 'here' is. Certainly no building I have been in. Of that I am sure" her comment was more of an open ended question asking for details to be filled in where they could be. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>persephone325</strong> on <strong>07-04-2013, 16:27:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100401191448/fatalframe/images/c/c2/Misaki_Asou1.png)<br></div><strong>Misaki Asou<br>2nd floor hallway with John and Kassil</strong><br><hr>Misaki listened as Kassil introduced herself. She hadn't met another blind person before, but she had passed them by on the way to school when she was younger. She would always step out of their way to make it easier for them to get around.<br><br>"Late for class? Oh, do you go to Osaka University as well?" She asked, glancing at John. "Though I should let you know that we're not exactly sure where 'here' is either. I thought I was back at Rogetsu... I mean, my room is here and everything. I even fought that ghost..." Misaki's voice trailed off as she looked down, still confused about what was actually happening.<br><br>Faintly, she thought she could hear the Tsukimori Song again. But she didn't want to bring it up in case Kassil and John couldn't hear it. She didn't want to seem any more crazy than she knew she most likely already was.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cosmo_ac</strong> on <strong>10-04-2013, 00:15:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/6557dd01-d466-4b53-a243-f2aa3370203a_zpsec287b1f.jpg)<br><br>Duncan gave a slight jump when he heard the women's voice, mostly expecting not to get any answer at all.&nbsp; He had gotten an answer though, and he turned to see the blond in front of him.&nbsp; He didn't think he had ever been so happy to see another face in his life.&nbsp; Of course, the fact she was kind'a pretty certainly didn't hurt either.&nbsp; It never did.<br><br>Duncan took a step forward as Kaelyn introduced herself.&nbsp; "My name is Duncan.&nbsp; And I have no clue where we are or whats going on."&nbsp; Duncan had hoped that the women would know more then him, but it seemed she didn't.&nbsp; It was disapointing, but he was still better off then he had been a few hours moments ago.&nbsp; &nbsp;Misery loved company and all that.<br><br>"Yeah, i hope the lighter lasts.&nbsp; Lets start looking around and seeing if we can find somebody else, or maybe something in the way of a flashlight."&nbsp; Duncan suggested, not wanting to linger and let his lighter run out.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DarkRose15</strong> on <strong>10-04-2013, 07:40:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/ed0cf5a0-35ab-4899-b813-6b898008d3ee_zps058f17ca.jpg)</div><br>Kaelyn smiled a bit when she jumped but did feel badly about just startling him. But sadly he seemed as confused as she was as she sighed. "Well fuck." she grumbled, running her fingers through her hair. "Well Duncan, I agree with you. Let's try and find that flashlight. And it's nice to meet you too, though I feel we both would have rather met under different circumstances." she said, nodding at his suggestion that they go look for others.<br><br>Getting out of this room was a good idea anyway. She didn't like the feel of it. "Since we're both lost, which way should we go?"<br><br><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MabFaerie</strong> on <strong>16-04-2013, 05:45:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/b36a2cbe-7ec2-4a0f-83c1-80b5a9177b34_zps94ff6f9e.jpg)</div><strong><span style="font-family: GranthamLight;" class="bbc_font">Aislin McCarthy<br>Doll Room, West Wing<br>Current Inventory: Messenger Bag, Simple Polaroid Camera, Cell Phone, KeyRing, Wallet, Odd Diary, Doll Key, Notebook and Pens.<br>Current Equipment: Simple Polaroid Camera // Exorcismal Power: Moderately Low<br>Film Type: Type D Film // Current Film Amount: 31 Shots<br></span></strong><hr><br>Inching closer to the woman who had identified herself as Cassandra, Aislin knelt down somewhat near her, trying to be as calm and gentle as possible. <br>"Cassandra? You said your name was Cassandra? Hey there, Cassandra. Are you able to move? Can you stand up?" Aislin offered a hand to the clearly shaken looking girl and stood, tugging Cassandra along with her. Instinctively, she shrugged out of her black leather jacket and offered it to the girl, seeing now that she was barefoot and clad only in what looked to be a white nightgown or thin dress of sorts.<br>&nbsp;<br>"One second, let me check my bag..." Aislin murmured, ruffling through her bag for a moment before tugging out a pair of thin, slim, low-heeled work shoes. They were black and simple and not exactly built for running around in, but they were certainly better than going about barefoot.<br>"Here, see if these fit you. They're the shoes I wear when I'm in my office, they're not really designed for regular wear and tear but... well, they're probably better than getting splinters in your toes."<br>Aislin took a step back, allowing Cassie room to slip into the jacket and shoes, hoping both articles would fit her properly, as she didn't have anything else left to offer her. <br><br>When at last Cassie seemed a bit more pulled together, Aislin spoke.<br>"I don't think this is a dream, Cassandra. I don't know where or what this place is. I... I think it has something to do with this strange Diary I found." Before Aislin could say more, the sharp thud of something dropping to the floor caught her attention.<br><br>Turning away from Cassandra, Aislin noticed something appeared to have fallen off of a nearby shelf. Laying in a heap on the floor was a soft, plush doll with a round wooden head, clad in a pale pink dress. Face up, her button eyes stared at the ceiling listlessly and her mouth was stitched into an eternal, crooked smile. <br><br>"It's just a doll." Aislin murmured, reaching down to pick up the doll and place it back on the shelf. <br>"That's mine!" A sharp, childlike voice shouted, dashing forward through the far wall and snatching the doll from Aislins hands before it could reach the empty space on the shelf.<br>"Ah!" Aislin cried out, stepping back, her eyes widened with shock and her breath catching in her throat as she recognized the little girl from before. Had the girl followed her here?<br>"You're a thief!" The little ghost girl cried out, clearly enraged by Aislin having touched the doll at all.<br>"No, I wasn't trying to take it, you don't understand..." She trailed off, slowly backing to the side towards the door she'd entered from, while holding a hand out, angled behind her back, towards Cassie. <br><br>"You... you have your doll now, sweetie. See? We didn't take it. We just wanted to pick it up off the floor, alright? We didn't want it to get dusty, is all. That's <em>your</em> doll. We weren't going to keep it. Honest." Despite all logic, Aislin was, as best as she could, trying to reason with the angry ghost. She only had so much film in her camera to take shots with, and wasn't entirely sure why, if the light of the camera was hurting ghosts, the light of the flashlight wasn't.<br><br>"Do you want to play with me?" The girl smiled and looked at Aislin and Cassandra straight on, that bloody slit of a mouth was even more unsettling the second time around. Aislin got the feeling that the 'playing' the girl referred to wouldn't end well for them. <br>There was only another moment of waiting for the feel of Cassies own warm hand against hers before Aislin bolted to the door and fled with Cassie close behind her.<br>"Don't leave me!" The ghost girl screamed in a blind rage, running after them, though not nearly fast enough to keep up, thankfully.<br>&nbsp;<br>Sprinting down the hallway, with her grip on Cassies hand tight, if a bit sweaty with fear and anxiety, Aislin managed to gather enough breath to explain,<br>"I saw a door down this hallway. It seemed like it was stuck, not locked. When it comes into view, I want you to throw yourself at it with me. With enough force, we should be able to get it open, okay?" Aislin didn't wait for an answer as the door had come into view.<br><br>"On three! One..." The door was just a few feet away now.<br>"Two..." If she reached out, her fingertips could touch it.<br>"THREE!" Slamming her shoulder full force into the door, with Cassie beside her, Aislin felt her sense of balance lurch somewhat as she tumbled over a dresser that had been half blocking the door, only to have Cassie land squarely a top of her. <br>"The door! Shut the door!" Aislin cried out as she scrambled to kick the door shut in the face of the little ghost girl. <br><br>For one long, agonizingly anxious moment, there was silence.<br>Then, bit by bit, the small girl began to apparate through the door, with an angry look in her gaze and a smile on her lips.<br>"Hide and Seek? Found you. I win."<br>Without thinking, Aislin raised her camera and took a shot of the girl, albeit a clumsy and slightly off-center one, but a shot all the same.<br>"AAHH! CHEATERS!" The girl screamed, lunging towards Cassandra, who was nearest to the door. <br>"Get back!" Aislin shouted while taking another photograph, though it was unclear whether she was referring to Cassie or the ghost girl.<br><br>The second shot she took was steadier, her natural finesse for photography shone through, and the ghost girl was likely still reeling from the snapshots of the first time around in the small room. <br>As she steadied her camera for the third shot, it occurred to her that perhaps it wasn't the light of the camera damaging the girl at all. Perhaps it was the photograph? That seemed strange though. Why would a photograph hurt someone? <br><br>As she snapped the third shot, the ghost girl seemed to slow down, having taken a sustainable amount of damage at this point.<br>"Cassandra, take this. I want to test a theory." Aislin called out, fishing her cell phone from her pocket and tossing it to her platinum haired companion.<br>"Take a picture of the girl. I'll keep my aim on her just in case I'm wrong." <br><br>The familiar mechanical click from her phone snapped a shot of the ghost girl, and answered Aislins question at the same time.<br>Slowing to a dull march, the ghost girl dropped to her knees, sniffing.<br>"Fine. My turn to hide." She said, dejectedly before fading away to a space beneath the floor.<br><br>"It's the photographs." She murmured, confirming her theory. "It's not the light, like I thought. It's the photographs. Taking a photo of them hurts them? Or traps them? Or... something? I... I don't know. It does something. And whatever that is, it keeps us safe." Exhaling a bit, Aislin nodded, <br>"Okay. Good to know that. Shit... I'm going to need more film."<br>Turning to glance as Cassie, she offered a reassuring smile,<br>"You... alright? I think she's gone now. For a while, at least."<br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Cell Phone Camera</div><div class="spoiler_body">For those who are curious/wish to use their cell phones as cameras, here are the stats:<br>Current Equipment: Cell Phone Camera // Exorcismal Power: Very Low<br>Film Type: Type E Film // Current Film Amount: 00 Shots</div></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kitakaze</strong> on <strong>17-04-2013, 17:29:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/84ff483c-a05f-4f5c-86d1-6e055251a06e_zps5e4795f7.jpg)</div><br><strong> John Nakajima <br>2nd Floor Hallway<br>With: Misaki, Kassil<br></strong><br><hr>Seeing her reach out, John extended his own hand to grasp hers in a firm handshake, reaffirming for him that she was in fact a real person. "I've never heard of Rogetsu... Hm, unfortunately it looks like none of us will be keeping any appointments today... This place seems to be some kind of manor, not somewhere I've ever been, myself." <br><br>At Misaki's question he gave his head a brief shake of negation. "No, I'm sure we've never met on campus. Also, unless I guess wrong, you don't live in Japan at all, do you, Miss Kassil? "
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cosmo_ac</strong> on <strong>26-04-2013, 04:08:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/6557dd01-d466-4b53-a243-f2aa3370203a_zpsec287b1f.jpg)<br><br>"Thats a good question."&nbsp; Duncan mused when hearing the question about which direction they should go.&nbsp; It seemed to him they could go right or left down the halway, or try one of the doors.&nbsp; Duncan was unsure himself about what direction they should head towards, however, he would prefer to continue down the corridor, hoping that it might lead to a larger opening, perhaps to the main enterance of the house.&nbsp; Would they be so lucky?&nbsp; Time would tell.&nbsp; All Duncan knew was they didn't have time to be wasting, with the limited light of his lighter, after all.<br><br>"Let's go this way."&nbsp; Duncan said, pointing towards his right.&nbsp; It was as good as a direction as any.&nbsp; "So, where are you from,&nbsp; Kaelyn?"&nbsp; Duncan asked, trying to make some small talk to fill in the uncomfortable silence that seemed to be around them.&nbsp; She looked around his age.&nbsp; Maybe she went to the same school?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DarkRose15</strong> on <strong>27-04-2013, 01:11:51</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/ed0cf5a0-35ab-4899-b813-6b898008d3ee_zps058f17ca.jpg)</div><br>"Any way is good as long as we get the hell out of this place. I feel like those dolls are watching us." she said, shivering a bit but managing a smile. The place gave her bad vibes and there was no way around it. It was as if the spirits were licking their chops at the edges of her already fragile mind, but she had to maintain her appearance. She wasn't crazy. <em>Click click click....</em><br><br>She stayed close to Duncan as he used his lighter to guide them in the darkened hallways, but she wasn't foolish. They both knew that there was no way this would last forever and would need another source of light. "Cleveland. Cleveland, Ohio." she said, when he asked her where she was from. Brushing a cobweb out of her face with a frown she turned back to him. "What about you?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>persephone325</strong> on <strong>27-04-2013, 07:25:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100401191448/fatalframe/images/c/c2/Misaki_Asou1.png)<br></div><strong>Misaki Asou<br>2nd floor hallway with John and Kassil</strong><br><hr>When John said he was positive Kassil didn't go to Osaka University, Misaki frowned. Her theory as to who was becoming trapped was just blown out the window. So it wasn't limited to Japan. But then where was this girl from?<br><br>Misaki shined her flashlight around the hall. Old, dusty paintings covered in thick layers of dirt lined the walls. Though something glinted in the light as she passed over one of the paintings. It didn't look as old and neglected as the others.<br><br>"Korehanandesuka?" Her voice was soft as she slowly walked over to the painting. As she drew nearer, she could see it was clearly a key. Misaki picked it up and held it in her hand. It was so small, but it clearly went to a door. "A key..." She said, somewhat confused.<br><br>The painting was interesting. It depicted a young girl, not much older than Misaki herself. But it was what was in her hands that shocked Misaki. It was a diary. Not too dissimilar to her own. A different color, but Misaki could tell it was pretty much the same as hers...<br><hr><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Translation</div><div class="spoiler_body">Korehanandesuka? - What's this?</div></div>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Teo Torriatte</strong> on <strong>02-05-2013, 05:40:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/3d87bccc-3262-498c-9304-e5ce4bd1ac06_zps54265354.jpg)</div>Cassandra gazed up at Aislin, trying to calm herself down as the other girl helped her to her feet. She blushed when she realised how inappropriately she was dressed, not that she knew what the appropriate dress was for getting whisked away to some strange house via dreamwalking. Her eyes softened when Aislin offered her jacket and shoes, "Oh, Aislin, thank you so much. Why can't I dream myself with more clothes on?" she chuckled softly, trying to keep as positive an attitude as she could. She tried on the jacket and shoes, and was delighted to see that they both fit quite nicely. "We must be close to the same size," she commented with a sheepish grin.<br><br>The ghostly little girl startled her, and she fell silent while Aislin tried to tell the ghost that they weren't trying to steal her doll. She didn't want to 'play' with the little girl, either, so she nodded as they ran out of the room and down the hallway. She grunted with the effort to force open the door, but finally they got it open and found themselves in another room of this strange house.<br><br>Her eyes widened in terror when the girl just walked right through the door anyway, her pulse racing as she wondered how they could hide from someone that could just walk through doors and probably walls, too. Her heart pounding, she tilted her head in confusion when Aislin tossed her the cell phone, but she was willing to try anything at this point. Fumbling a moment with the phone, she was finally able to take the little girl's picture, and to her surprise that actually seemed to frighten the ghost off!<br><br>"Holy shit, Aislin, that actually worked..." she was still breathing hard, trying to process everything. "I... I'm ok, for the moment. But this day just keeps getting weirder and weirder... how about you? Are you ok? What do we do now? We need to find a way out of here, wherever 'here' is."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>MabFaerie</strong> on <strong>31-07-2013, 06:24:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/b36a2cbe-7ec2-4a0f-83c1-80b5a9177b34_zps94ff6f9e.jpg)</div><strong><span style="font-family: GranthamLight;" class="bbc_font">Aislin McCarthy<br>Main Foyer<br>Current Inventory: Messenger Bag, Simple Polaroid Camera, Cell Phone, KeyRing, Wallet, Odd Diary, Doll Key, Notebook and Pens.<br>Current Equipment: Simple Polaroid Camera // Exorcismal Power: Moderately Low<br>Film Type: Type D Film // Current Film Amount: 29 Shots<br></span></strong><hr><br>"That was... insane." Aislin lowered the camera, her hands shaking noticeably despite her attempts to keep them still.<br>With a few steadying breaths, she managed to regain her senses and focus. Looking around, she found herself in a large foyer that led off to various hallways. Towards the far end of the foyer, decorated by towering windows on either side was a set of tall, wide double doors that looked as if they led outside.<br>Gesturing to Cassandra, she pointed towards the doors, "Come on, that looks like the front door. Maybe we can get out of here in one piece." <br><br>No sooner had she said it did she discover the front doors were very firmly locked in place with no key in sight. Aislin tried turning the knob every which way but the door simply wouldn't give. What was even more odd was that despite there being a keyhole, there was no deadbolt or any type of hand-turned lock. It was as if the door was only opened on either side by a key, one of which she didn't possess. <br>"What kind of front door can't be unlocked from the inside?!" Aislin exclaimed with obvious frustration in her tone, slamming her fists against the door in a rage, that still refused to budge even in the slightest way. It was almost as if some strong, unseen force was holding it shut.&nbsp; <br><br>Glancing back to Cassandra, Aislin was about to try and formulate some kind of plan when the loud thud of footsteps above her head caught her attention.&nbsp; <br>Looking up, her brows knit into a worried gaze. <br>"Seems like there's someone upstairs. Maybe there are others trapped here too?" She suggested, betting on a false hope and ignoring the soft whisper in her ear and the worried twist of her gut that suggested what was upstairs may not be human at all. <br><br>"I've got a few shots left in my camera. Do you want to try finding a way upstairs?" She asked Cassandra, already having started to poke around the surrounding area, discovering what looked to be a small coatroom of sorts that proved to be of little use aside from causing her to sneeze up dust every few feet in.<br><br>As she backed out of the coatroom, her sleeve caught on a wooden fragment half bent along the door, pulling the fabric on her arm and threatening to tear it. She began to tug, forcefully freeing her arm and knocking into a shelf in the process.<br>From the shelf fell a small, round bell a few feet from where Cassandra stood, jingling a noticeable tune before coming to a still.<br><br>"Nah, shit. Wanna toss that to me, Cassie? I'll put it back where--" Stopping short, she noticed a greyish figure appearing beside Cassandra, staring at the bell near her feet. She was unlike the ghost they'd seen earlier. For one, her clothing was that of modern times, a slim blue dress and flat blue shoes. Her hair seemed an eerie mix of greys and purples, unearthly colours that screamed of unlife. <br><br>Instinctively Aislin raised her camera again, ready to shoot if the girl should decide to lunge for Cassie.<br>Instead, the small girl knelt down, gathering the bell and snapping it into place on a slim silver chain around her neck. Without a word, she sped off, the quiet melody of the bell chiming away with her every ghostly footstep until only the unstill silence of heavy air remained. <br><br>"Let's keep moving, I don't want to stand around." Aislin managed to say, her breath a cold and frightened frost that betrayed her stoic demeanor.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Karasu</strong> on <strong>01-08-2013, 02:34:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/1126904966_uizzesCalm_zps34a26983.jpg)</div>Yoko Katsushika<br>Floor 1, Main Foyer<br>Current Inventory: Backpack, Cell Phone, Scooter Key, Flashlight, 54 Yen, Odd Diary<br>Current Equipment: Cell Phone Camera // Exorcismal Power: Very Low<br>Film Type: Type E Film // Current Film Amount: 00 Shots<br>With: no one, Storage Room<br><hr><br>Yoko blinked as she looked around the Storange room, She went forward, looking around this way and that. She had no idea How she got to this strange room, all she remembered was setting off to find her brother, and finding this strange book near the entrance to a park.. She looked down at the diary in her hands and seemed to smile, Yojiro's name was on it.. "Brother.. I miss you.." She whispered softly as she held the Diary tightly and walked to the door of the room itself. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: "Fatal Frame: Forgotten Memories" Main Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kitakaze</strong> on <strong>13-09-2013, 20:51:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i127.photobucket.com/albums/p121/Mab_faerie/Elliquiy/Fatal%20Frame%20RP/84ff483c-a05f-4f5c-86d1-6e055251a06e_zps5e4795f7.jpg)</div><br><strong> John Nakajima <br>2nd Floor Hallway<br>With: Misaki, Kassil<br></strong><br><hr>From one end of the hall to the other, there were paintings and other decorations, or so it seemed, and John found himself slightly distracted when he heard Misaki mumble something and step away. Turning to see what had caught her attention, his brow furrowed at the sight of the girl in the painting. "Hmm? Kagi? Okashii na...<sup>1</sup> Who would hide a key like that? It's certainly clever, but..." <br><br>He suddenly blinked and turned with a grimace towards Kassil again, "I'm sorry, ah, there's a key that was hung up on a painting just here. It's small, but I'm pretty sure it's for a door or padlock... Probably." Even as he spoke, his mind was racing, going over everything he could remember about myths or urban legends that he might have come across, but it just kept coming back to the Himuro incident. This couldn't be related to that, though, it would just be too much of a coincidence...<br><br><div class="spoiler_container"><div onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" class="spoiler_header">Translation</div><div class="spoiler_body">1. A key? That's odd...<br>*Blue text = spoken Japanese<br></div></div>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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