The Murder Club (( Open ))

[Mad As The Hatter]

~.~.STORY.~.~

The year is 1804 in the city of London. The streets are running red with blood during the seemingly harmful nights as the latest serial killer makes his way into the hearts of London's citizens to cause nothing but fear. The papers has dubbed this person 'Hearts', due to the signature the killer leaves behind. The victim's heart is cut out, then, replaced with a heart playing card. The police are loosing suspects left and right and seemed to be getting nowhere. So, 'The Murder Club' was formed. Consisting of eight teenagers who's skills far surpass their age group. Soon they find themselves getting closer and closer to their goal, but as they get closer, they discover disturbing secrets...and have put themselves in the line of target for the killer. Will they solve this case? Or become the next victims?

 

[Mad As The Hatter]

~.~.RULES.~.~

~ + No godmodding + ~
~ + No flaming + ~
~ + I want you to be AT LEAST LITERATE. It's a LITERATE RP + ~
~ + PM me with the title 'We'll catch him...' + ~
~ + No chat speak + ~
~ + Please do not join, then never post. I don't want this to die crying + ~
~ + No cybering + ~
~ + I WOULD like an rp sample XD just to know if your right for it + ~
~ + Do not kill any main characters...XD We sort of need them + ~
~ + If you wanna be the killer XD Go ahead, But you need to PM me first saying that alright + ~
~ + This IS a long-term RP, so please keep it going. I really want dedicated roleplayers + ~
~ + Tell me if I missed any rules ^^;;; + ~
~ + Tell me if you go on vacation or something please ^^ + ~
~ + Have fun! + ~

 

[Mad As The Hatter]

~.~.SKELETON.~.~

{.My.Puppet.Master.}
(( Gaia Name ))

{.I.Was.Named.}
(( Character's Name ))

{.Most.People.Call.Me}
(( Nickname or Alias ))

{.I.Am.Only.}
(( Age ))

{.I.Was.Born.A.}
(( Gender ))

{.I.Get.My.Hands.Dirty.With.}
(( Weapons. You can have up to three, but nothing to advanced ))

{.I.Act.Like.}
(( Personality ))

{.My.Best.Friend.}
(( Pet. You can have up to two ))

{.What.Else.Is.There.}
(( Other Tidbits ))

{.What.I.Look.Like.}
(( Appearance ))

{.I'll.Always.Love.You.}

 

[Mad As The Hatter]

~.~.MAIN CHARACTERS.~.~

{.My.Puppet.Master.}
Irishroseh

{.I.Was.Named.}
Maxine Victoria Lisbourn

{.Most.People.Call.Me}
Max, Maxie

{.I.Am.Only.}
Fifteen

{.I.Was.Born.A.}
Female

{.I.Get.My.Hands.Dirty.With.}
a kitchen knife.

{.I.Act.Like.}
Maxine is a nice person, in general. Sure, she's a bit condescending sometimes to people she doesn't like, and in general, doesn't always 'get' the rough-and-tumble act of the lower classes, but everyone has their flaws. She can be quite rude at first, but that is because she is tired of being trod on because she is female, and treated like porcelain, because she is rich, and vice versa. She warms up pretty fast to a little niceness, and is soon talking a mile a minute. She's too friendly at times, and has the skill of seeming to go along with something without actually promising anything, down to pat. She can be subtle, she has to be, but she likes to be more up front around her friends. She sort of likes drama amongst her upper class friends, it's an accepted part of life for them, but she hates it when her real friends fight. She steers clear of fist-fights, but knows her stuff, enough to be able to take down an attacker.

Max has perfected her 'blank' face, which she uses when she is bored, or annoyed.

{.My.Best.Friend.}
Amber the cat. She's a calico stray Max found in the streets, and a fierce fighter. She's feisty, with sharp claws. Max has the scars on her arms to prove it too. However, Amber is a loyal defender and especially loving when she's hungry. She loves the outdoors, and is about two or three years old.

{.What.Else.Is.There.}
Max is from a rich family. Not as rich as the royal family, but somewhere in that category. Her mother has nothing better to do than play matchmaker for her, which was the one reason that drove her out of the house in the first place, and landed her amongst her group of new friends. Her father deals with trading and investing, hardly pays any attention to her, instead is busy heralding his heir, her eldest brother. She's not especially close to him, not like she was with Jacob, her brother that vanished in America. That was a real blow to her.

She is a wicked fast runner, because when she was a child, whenever she wanted to get away from the world, she would run through the streets of London, dodging people and carts alike, making her extremely agile, and swift. She would also go for long runs in the countryside, which she fell in love with, whenever her parents would take her on business trips out of city.

Maxine is also quiet. Not mouse quiet, but her footsteps are softer than your average person. She enjoys sneaking up on people as a practical joke, but especially now, in these dark times, she has found it as an increasingly useful skill.

She's slightly embarrassed to be so rich, when there are people starving and dying on the streets. She goes on some charity missions, feeding them, sometimes even volunteering in hospitals, but, like most of the society ladies, wears a mask that covers her face. She has yet to admit to The Murder Club that she is in fact, rich, although she suspects that one person knows already.

{.What.I.Look.Like.}
Max stands a normal five foot four, a height that suits her perfectly. She has a smooth, oval shaped face, with very slightly chubby cheeks. Her skin is a clear and light, and she has a spattering of freckles. She rarely tans, and buns pretty easy, but doesn't stay in the sun for prolonged periods of time. This only brings out her brown-green eyes, and makes her blush easily, making her embarrassment hard to hide, or telling when she is a bit too warm. Her hair appears brownish-blond in the dark, or shadows, but when she is in the sun, or somewhere with soft lighting, the red in her hair is highlighted. That, along with her slightly-thicker-than-usual eyebrows hint at Irish and Italian ancestry. It is the one thing she is vain about, and because of that, has grown it long, down to her waist. When she goes out with 'The Murder Club' she braids spikes into it, just as a precaution incase someone tries to use it as a hold on her. She feels slightly ridiculous, but a lot safer with it in. She has bangs, only because of an accident with a knife when she was little. She actually liked the result once they had grown out some, so she has bangs that come down to her nose, and frame her face. Her nose is slightly long and pointy, but in a way that is aesthetically pleasing. Her mouth is small, which is surprising, considering the way she talks. It's never painted, like some of the ladies, but it always seems to be flushed red. Her bottom teeth are a little crooked, but her tops are surprisingly straight and white.

Max is small waisted, always has been naturally, but all the running she does helps. Running comes naturally to her, and is something she loves to do. She is the fastest person she knows. Her legs especially are in good shape, her muscles are well defined, which is something her parents don't like very much, but can't do anything about. When she's around her parents, she wears whatever pleases her parents, dresses, petticoats, the works. It's not comfortable, but Maxine doesn't entirely hate it either. When she's with her friends, the ones her parents don't know too much about, she usually snags some of the boot boys clothes. Trousers, a linen shirt, and a newsboy cap she got somewhere. She would love to go barefoot, but unfortunately, the state of the streets forced her to go to the cobbler and order a special pair of what she calls her running shoes. She always, always wears a silver chain with a small silver cross, that her older [but not oldest] brother gave to her before he took off for the Americas, and was never heard from again. She loves to smile.

{.I'll.Always.Love.You.}
None, for now.


{.My.Puppet.Master.}
Mad As The Hatter

{.I.Was.Named.}
Michelle Lean Du'Maurier

{.Most.People.Call.Me}
Mickie (Hates that one), Madame Butterfly

{.I.Am.Only.}
Eighteen

{.I.Was.Born.A.}
Female

{.I.Get.My.Hands.Dirty.With.}
Pistol

{.I.Act.Like.}
Michelle is a very quiet and very shy girl. She may seem rude if she doesn't reply to you back, even snobby, but she's just trying to find the right words to say. That, and she doesn't want anyone making fun of her thick French accent. Once Michelle gets to know you, she'll warm up, but still won't say much. She has a small habit of speaking French, even in front of the Murder Club, and is always embarrassed because of it. If she's not with the Murder Club, she's always outside in the courtyard, thinking to herself. Michelle may not say it, but she's actually quite smart compared to some older men. She's kind of easy to push around, but she doesn't mind, as long as she's not hurting others.

{.My.Best.Friend.}
Michelle doesn't really have a pet. Her obsession lies with the Butterflies, thus earning her nickname. She loves to sit outside and watch them fly. All of their colours and patterns, they were like one big puzzle that couldn't be solved, not matter how hard anyone tried. She doesn't have the heart to keep one in a cage or locked up, so she leaves her bedroom window open, making her room smell sweet so they would fly into her room so she can watch.

{.What.Else.Is.There.}
Michelle is from a very wealthy family in France. Born into a family of five, she is the middle child, and hopefully, not to be the last one. Her younger sister is very ill, and her older sister ran away from home when she was thirteen. Her parents are very concerned about her and her little sister, and are always babying them, trying to protect them from the world. That's where Michelle's fascination began. She would always sit out in the yard on a hot day and watch the Butterflies land on her mother's flowers. She often pretended that she was a butterfly too, trying to escape the walls of her home. During the winter months, she often became depressed, since she couldn't play with her 'friends'.

Her parents started to worry about her depression, soon moving to London where they thought a change in scenery would be good for her. It was nice enough at first, until her little sister fell ill. Everything seemed to change for her that day. Her parents always had doctors come to look at her, and even the doctors didn't know what to say.

She's still alive, but growing more and more sick by the days. And now with a murderer on the loose, Michelle's life could very well too be at risk. Which is one of the reason's Michelle's parents warn her about the club, pleading with her to quit. They already lost one daughter, and the other one on the brink of death, they didn't want to go too.

{.What.I.Look.Like.}
Michelle

{.I'll.Always.Love.You.}
No one yet.

 

[Mad As The Hatter]

~.~.Black & White List.~.~

BLACK LIST:

No One

WHITE LIST:

Mad as the hatter - For making it <3
Irishroseh - For being the first to join! <3

 

[Irishroseh]

Maxine was in the sitting room again. It was almost the same as the last time, and the time before that, and the time before that. Her mother still wore the hopefull expression that Max wouldn't disgrace herself, and that the boy would be compatable. She was still getting the same pre-meeting lecture, she was still pretending to listen. As she did, she looked around the room, which hadn't changed in as long as she could remember. The walls were still richly papered, the furnature was almost all imported from France and the pottery in the darkwood cabinet in the corner was most certainly from Poland. And it was all the same.

Sighing internally, for doing so out loud would be a big 'no-no,' she smoothed out her dress, causing the fabric to rustle softly. She smiled slightly, and thought, 'Well, not everything is the same. The dress is different, and so, I hope, will be the suitor.' Her mother took her smile for one of readyness, and before she knew it, she was on her feet, and being pushed towards the grand doors that led to the 'Matchmaker's Room,' as she had come to call it. Again, before she knew it, she was inside, and the door was being closed softly behind her.

Her eyes went immediatly to the suitor, who was studying her as much as she was him. He was younger than the other ones, couldn't have been more than thirty years old, which surprised her. He was blond, had a nice enough face, an easy smile, but she wasn't going to trust that. After all, plenty of people, including herself, could fake being charming. As he approached her, his eyes kept sliding to the wealth displayed in the room, which annoyed her to no end. 'So he was one of those, here for the money...,' She thought, and had to keep from wrinkling her nose. But, as he closed the gap, and kissed Max's proffered hand, which she had to fight back another disgusted expression, he turned on the charm, and they began to talk.

Half an hour later, she emerged from the room quite exhausted and out of sorts, her temper kindled by his continual assuming and condescending-ness. Her mother looked hopeful, like maybe this one, Maxine would want to marry. But at Max's expression, she saw it was another no, and opened her mouth to deliver another lecture. 'Also the same.' she thought humorlessly, but just pushed past her mother, and up to her room, where she pulled out her other set of clothes, the ones her parent's didn't know a thing about. She pulled them on quick enough, and tied her hair back, in a loose ponytail. She took the servants way out, avoiding all contact with people, and set off though the streets at a run. She was off to the 'clubhouse' to see if anyone wanted to play.  

[Mad As The Hatter]

♥Ay, Ay, Ay, I'm your little...
Butterfly♥~♥



Michelle sat in her room like she usually did, looking outside at the dim sunlight. Summer, she had to admit, was quite lovely in London. However, her heart was missing France greatly. The smell of freshly baked bread. The pure air, the people that actually spoke French instead of English. Oh, how she missing it so. It wasn't so bad here, she supposed. She did have her friends, and the club. And the butterflies. That's what she was watching outside. Her winged friends danced lightly in the light breeze, their colours mixing together. A light smile was brought upon her face. She opened her window a bit, the sweet smell of fruit grabbing the attention of one butterfly. As it flew into her room, she smiled, letting it land on the top f her head. It's wings opened and closed gently, just like a butterfly should. She shut her eyes, letting out a soft, content sigh.

They soon opened, hearing a fit of coughs from the next room. Startled, the butterfly flew out, a small frown gracing Michelle's face. She stood, picking up her dress so she wouldn't trip on it. She opened the door to her room, slowly stepping out into the hallway and making her way to the room next door. She opened the door slightly, poking her head inside. A small girl, no older then seven, laid silently now on the bed, her breathing laboured a bit. Michelle's eye averted to the ground, shutting the door lightly so she didn't wake her. Glory seemed to be getting sicker, and her parents were blaming London. They seemed to lack the knowledge that a town can not make someone sicker. The doctors even told them it wasn't London, but the didn't listen. They never listened.

Michelle looked at the time. It was late afternoon, and she wondered if anyone would be at the clubhouse at this time. She walked down the stairs, holding her dress up. Once down the, she let go of it. "Mère! Père! I'm going out!" She called out, hoping her parent heard her. They would have told her not too, then start begging for her to quit. Quickly, she opened the door, running out of the house to avoid that situation. She walked down the streets, her long black hair swaying behind her. She had a small bounce step, slightly excited to get to the clubhouse. Odd too. She was never this excited about going to the club before.  

[Irishroseh]

Maxine took a detour down a side street when she smelled meat. She hadn't been down to the meeting place in a couple of weeks, not being able to get away from her mother long enough. First it was the newest murder scare, and then it was more suitors. She was sick and tired of it all, and her temper was fit to burst. In order to calm down, just in case anyone was at the house, she stopped at the butchers to get her cat, Amber, some meat. Just thinking about her adorable, spazzy cat brought a smile to her face. She ordered fish, just going through the motions, not really paying attention, as she thought about the recent murder. She hadn't been able to get much information, as the subject was taboo with her mother, and she had been pretty much cooped up.

She was a block from the 'clubhouse' when she heard a familiar yowling. Her friends often wondered how she could tell Amber's yell from the rest. She didn't know how, she just could. The furball shot out of the alley like her tail was on fire, and her pupils were huge, her hair standing up. Max wasn't sure what spooked her cat, but she called out softly to her. Amber, immediatly recognizing her name, came over and wound herself around Max's legs, purring angrily. The cat rarely purred when happy, and when she did, you had to feel it, you couldn't really hear it. When she was angry, she would purr as loud as she could, and then ended up 'whining' to her, which entailed of much meowing until Max did what she wanted.

The meow's began when Amber realized Max had fish. Obviously the cat hadn't eaten well in the weeks she was gone, and not for the first time, she wished she could just take the little devil home to live with her, but couldn't, because her mother got the sneezes whenever a furry animal was around. The doctor called it allergies. Max fed the cat a bit, and Amber bit her hand in her haste to get to the food. She withheld the rest, putting it back in her pocket, and scooping up the calico in her arms, to which she protested feebily, full from eating. She set off slowly this time, as the cat did not like to be bounced, and fought the crowds to get to the house.

She stood outside of the 'clubhouse,' a run down house that was probably quite grand in it's day. She fingered a key to the back door, one that was duplicated eight times, as someone's idea, she couldn't remember quite who at the moment. It unlocked the back door, as the front was boarded up, to keep out squatters. Slipping around back, she unlocked the house, and went to the cozy living room where she liked to hang out. There, and the kitchen. Amber jumped loose, and Max poked around a bit, quite surprised to find that she was the only one there.

[Hope you don't mind the little assumptions I made]  

[high tendencies]

Bri walked from her empty home, seemingly rude and gloomy to the outside world. To them, she was an outcast, a girl who ran away from her wealthy and happy home around the age of thirteen. But they knew nothing! It was a horrid life, being pampered so by her parents. There was no freedom there, her parents so 'protective'. Like they could give a thought in her direction; like they even cared if she made it home alright.

Bri sighed sadly to herself, regrets clouding her mind as she grew closer and closer to the 'club house' for the first time. Not regrets about deciding to give the club a chance, but about running away. What if she stayed, maybe she just felt the way she did, and her parents really did care. Okay, wishful thinking. But this new, cold world with murders and such really scared her, no matter how hard she tried not to show it. The outside world needn't know anything else that would make her more of an outcast.

'Why had I chose this place when I ran away? Out of the many places I could have chosen...' Her thoughts ran with annoyance. Bri seemed to be making all the wrong choices all the time. But you try living on your own! It stunk, going home after a hard days work to an empty house. It didn't even feel like a home! The walls hung bare and the furniture was poor. But what did you people want from her? Bri barely made enough money for food and the every day of must-needs as she liked to call them.

Finally, though nearly running into the door, Bri was here. At the club house. She took a deep breath, raised her hand, and knocked. Simple enough, now she just had to wait for some one to answer the door. Hale, her wolf pup, barked, making Bri nearly jump from her skin. It was all she could do to hold back a scream. She spun around to look at the dark colored pup and sighed in relief, "You should have stayed home." She growled, but it held no real anger. She could use the company. Bri took the pup in her arms and turned back to the door, screaming at herself in her mind. She should have noticed the pup's foot steps, should have heard the soft panting as Hale breathed... Bri sighed again, she was known to live in her own world. Maybe live in her own head, too...

 

[Blood_Covered_Pheonix]

{.My.Puppet.Master.}
Blood_ Covered_Pheonix

{.I.Was.Named.}
Alysa Esaon

{.Most.People.Call.Me}
Al or Steel or Steel Heart

{.I.Am.Only.}
17

{.I.Was.Born.A.}
Female

{.I.Get.My.Hands.Dirty.With.}
Two daggers

{.I.Act.Like.}
Alysa doesn't care much about what people think of her, she's got a rough and tough exterior, she doesn't seem to care about other people or even herself. Once you get to know her you find that she does care, she just doesn't want to lose her reputation as a cold hearted hood. She is a kind and loyal friend, but earning her trust takes awhile. She's really smart, even though she lives on the streets, that gives her an unbelievable advantige when she's 'working'.

{.My.Best.Friend.}
Tale, her brown sewer rat, she thinks he's really smart for a rat, he helps her by bringing her coins or leading her to them, sometimes he even brings food.

{.What.Else.Is.There.}
Al's parents were killed in a robbery gone bad when she was six, so she was put into the orphange for a few months, then she was adopted by a middle class family who only wanted to put her to work so they could get rich. While she lived with them she was made to stay up all night, sowing and mending clothes in the family's tailor shop, during the day she scrubbed floors, washed windows, even washed clothes for other people, she slept only when she had earned enough money, her meals were mostly moldy bread and water, sometimes a scrap of meat. After five years of living like this, she ran away.

She lived on the streets of London, learning to pickpocket and steal as though it were second nature, she was discovered by a group of runaways and abandoned children when she was thirteen, the group held about seven children, they shared a run down apartment, using stolen money or hocking goods to pay the rent, buy food, and furnish the home, Al fit right in with them. She lives with them now, though they have picked up more kids and some of the older ones have gotten real jobs and left the group. She joined 'the club' when she accidently walked in on one of their meetings after breaking into 'the clubhouse'.

{.What.I.Look.Like.}
Steel looks like a boy, with her red hair cut short and mostly hidden under a wool cap, her green eyes always hold a look of determination, her face and body don't look femine at all, because she was half starved during most of her growing years, so her features are more boyish, this suits her just fine. Her face is always dirty and covered in dirt or soot.

She has three outfits, a cotton shirt with a pair of leather breeches, a wool shirt with brown trousers, and a cotton shirt with the sleeves cut off and a pair of blue trousers, cut off just above the knee. She always wears a pair of worn down leather boots. She also has a black wool bag that she carries Tale around in when he doesn't want to be on her shoulder, and a smaller leather bag that she keeps her stolen goods in.

Her clothes are all loose so they hide her tiny breasts and other give aways of her being female.

{.I'll.Always.Love.You.}
None

Alysa held her palm to her bleeding side, trying to stop the bleeding. "Yeesh, worse than I thought, I'll see if someone's got some bandages at the clubhouse." She pushed harder against the wound, this was her best summer outfit her sleevless shirt and cut off trousers, it wouldn't do to have blood stains all over it.

As she continued limping her way to 'the clubhouse' she thought over the past few hours. She'd returned to the apartment with well over fourty dollars from theiving, offered to treat the gang to some nice food, then added in her share of the rent.




Al and the gang had eaten at a fairly nice resteraunt near the apartment then returned to their home. She went to sleep then, stashing the remander of her money under the loose floor board under her bed. All was fine until Shinner, the self opointed leader, nicknamed for his ability to give black eyes, came in and woke her, demanding his share of her money. She's told him in a few voulger words to leave her alone. He hadn't and somehow she got into a fight with him, ending with him plunging a small knife into her side. So she'd left, with all her money, she'd wait til Shinner cooled off, he was probably just drunk, then go back, it'd be like nothing had happened.


A slight smile graced her lips as 'the clubhouse' came into view. SHe pulled her cap off and pulled the key out of the lining of her it, she let herself into the house and replaced the key. "Anyone here?" SHe called and set about looking for something to wrap her wound.  

[Irishroseh]

[ @ Starlight-chan - Sorry for ignoring your post, I wasn't sure what to write, or who your character is. Sorry!

@ BCP (do you have another name I can call you?) Isn't it pounds? Sorry, im a stickler for this stuff. Anyway on to the roleplay! ]

Maxine had fallen asleep in the living room after making a small fire in the grate that was once used for that purpose. She knew it was dangerous to announce their residence to the rest of the world, but the room had just been so damp and musty that she had to do something about it, and couldn't really open any of the windows on the first floor. Amber had vanished when it became clear she was getting no more fish. If she had to guess, she suspected she'd find the cat near one of the chimney vents on the higher levels. And she'd be right. Her cat loved warm spots, claiming them as her own.

why are you

It was to her great, and not completely unpleasant surprise that she was woken by the sounds of someone in the house. She scrabbled for her kitchen knife in the waistband of her trousers before recognizing the voice and calming down. Silently cursing herself for falling asleep with a murder on the loose, she pushed herself into a sitting position. "Aly, is that you?" she called out, stretching and standing up. Gracefully, like she had been taught, she moved silently to where she found Alysa moving about, bleeding.

highlighting this??

"Oi! What have you been up to?" she asked, slightly alarmed. "Come here!" She practically dragged Al into the kitchen where she took down the shabby make-shift kit that contained a bit of wrapping and pure alcohol. It was a sorry excuse for a 'first-aid' kit, but it was all they had. She set both the bottle and the wrappings on the table and stared the older girl in the eye. "What was it this time?" Silently she was a bit concerned, but she didn't let it show. She knew better.
 

[Blood_Covered_Pheonix]

[call me Blaze or Pheonix]

Al forced herself to grin. "Just another street fight, some stupid duo thought they'd take me down, idoits really. Got this one when one of the idoits jumped me after I took down his buddy, took care of him with his knife still in me." She boasted, stretching so Maxine could see the wound better. Though she stretched too far and hurt herself. "Ow damn it." She growled.


Steel pulled her shirt over her head and grabbed the bottle of alcohol, dumping some on the wound, wincing when she felt the sting. She then started to wrap her side. "This was more trouble than it was worth." She murmured as she picked up her shirt. <********!" She cursed as she realized that most of the side was covered in fast drying blood. "Damn it all." She chewed on her bottom lip. "This won't do at all." She sighed and leaned against the wall. "Guess I'll have to get another one, I do have the money." She grinned again. "Things are looking up again I win a fight and get a new shirt."