Because they were conducting the ritual or whatever you want to call it in the doorway of a house, I get the feeling that the group doesn't care much for secrecy.

Good point. I think we need to terminate him.

Agreed, though I'd prefer to capture him if at all possible. Answers to questions are good things to have.

You gaze at the man staring at you. He's elderly, probably in his late seventies, with weather beaten and wrinkled skin and hair. Although he would look frazzled based on these aspects, he was holding himself quite well. You break the eye contact, and start to head for the door, thinking you might be able to slip out unnoticed. "Hey man, where are you going?" One of your friends calls after you. A few heads turn to look at you, but they go back to their previous engagement quickly. Your friend is right next to you now, saying, "a few of us are going to Darla's Brewery after the party dies down, want to join us?"
"I shouldn't," you say slowly, "I think I should just head home, you know..." you point abstractly to the open bar.
"Alright man, take care of yourself," your friend responds, disappearing into the crowd of people once again. You look back in the direction of where the elderly man had been standing, but he is now gone. Its too late to back out of your story now, though, so you head towards the door.
A distressed lady is pacing in front of the door, phone up to her ear. You don't catch the entire conversation, just, "...can't find you, call me back." You wait for her to finish pacing so that you can get through the door. Hanging up the phone, she quickly apologizes and steps aside. As you are through the door, she suddenly blurts out, "you were in the wedding party, right? I thought I saw you with the groom. Do you know Chris? He's one of the bride's friends, but she's been looking for him. Apparently she saw him in the crowd at the wedding, but hasn't seen him at the reception. Do you know where he is?" You shake your head apologetically, and she smiles. "Oh well, he probably is around here someplace, doubt he would've left before saying something. Thanks for your help."
Finding the topic pleasantly mundane, you dwell on Chris as you look through your phone for a suitable taxi company to call. Did you ever meet him? Was he one of the bride's numerous old flames?
You call a taxi and hang around the front, watching for someone to come pick you up, scanning the parking lot for anything interesting. The old man is out there, standing next to a silver Benz, waiting. You try not to stare at him, but it is for nothing. Just then, an elderly woman in a fur stole, escorted by a younger man about your age, inch carefully past you and down towards the Mercedes Benz. The man opens the front passenger's door and helps the woman in, the younger man sliding into the back. The elderly gentleman walks around to the driver's side door and opens at it, staring at you meaningfully before getting in. As his engine starts, you notice that your taxi has arrived.
"Where'll it be?" The driver asks as you buckle up. You watch the Benz as it pulls out of the parking lot. "I said where'll it be?"

Say to him/do whatever the thing is that gets us to the next logical event of the plot.

Repeat for each stage.

Quote from name:Tuxedo-Templar

Say to him/do whatever the thing is that gets us to the next logical event of the plot.

Repeat for each stage.

This. It almost seems like the story is completely linear. Do not want.

I'm actually enjoying the story enough that I don't care about the linearity.

Tell the driver to take you back to the orgy at the gothic castle on the edge of town.

I give up, this guy clearly sucks at espionage. If he dies, it's his own fault.

It actually isn't linear. Its just that whenever I subtly set up a choice, instead of choosing a path you guys are going LOL FIND OUT WHAT COLOR SOCKS HE'S WEARING or some other nonessential thing that doesn't effect anything. it happens in almost all RPs on this board...and for those who haven't caught on, I usually go with the majority action, so I wait a while to get more votes.

Where you're last post should have ended.

Also, reading this makes me long for your incredibly interesting multi-person story telling game. That one was really fun and going somewhere... well, until Azrael threw a temper tantrum and blew it all up. YEAH I SAID IT!

Post has been edited 3 time(s), last time on Nov 6 2011, 9:33 pm by ClansAreForGays.

Yea...I didn't have any other reason to publicly announce to a wedding reception that I was leaving due to intoxication unless someone asked. XD And you're more than welcome to bump that topic, I was waiting for a response post. Otherwise I'll continue this one.

If you want to you could decide to go home, clean up, go to Darla's Brewery at a reasonably estimated time when your bros would be there, and we could disregard both the glowing house and the old man plot.

Well the plan was to track the man back to where he lives, or is operating out of, and discover his motives.

But our protagonist is average joe enough to not be able to manage the wit and subtlety that espionage requires (making eye contact? Seriously?). So any attempt to the above would most likely result in a complete and utter failure.

Just follow the old fuck.

IIRC the "old fuck" disappeared. I feel that leaving the storyline of the glowing house would end badly, especially since the people in said house seemed rather willing to catch/kill the character.

I STILL WANNA KNOW WHERE THE MAD-ERASER CAME FROM!

What mad-eraser? Sorry, I did mean to update this again, but work has been exhausting so I wasn't around. XD

Date: November 7th, 2:50PM
Location: the steps of Her Grace's Fellowship Church

"Where'll it be?" The taxi driver asked again, checking his watch before sighing, "sir if you don't choose a desti-"

"That Benz," you say cutting him off, "follow that Benz." You faintly see the Benz turn right onto one of the side roads, a deserted road that won't be difficult to follow on.

"Who're you?" the taxi driver said with a chuckle, "James Bond?"

"I- I'm a friend of theirs, but they had no room in their car so I told them I'd follow in a taxi," you tell him, with added impatience, "so come on! Follow him before we lose him! I would hate to call them while they're on the road."

"Alright, alright," the taxi driver said with a shake of his head. He pulled out of the parking lot in a fashion typical to the taxi drivers in the area - making is tires squeal and nearly cutting off two lanes of traffic, causing you to shrink back. So much for being incognito.

The drive was picturesque. There was a breeze, knocking the orange and red leaves off of the trees and into the streets that would no doubt be cleared in the following days by city workers. Each house seemed to have a trim and proper front yard, complete with picket fence. As the Benz and taxi got further into the neighborhood, the properties became bigger and older, and the fences became higher until you could barely see anything other than row after row of stone walls, blocking out intruders and solicitors.

Suddenly, the Benz pulled a sharp right, and sped away. "You sure you're supposed to be following this car, bud?" The taxi driver said irritably as he continued to follow at a leisurely pace, you providing no response. The Benz was still in sight on the mostly deserted road, the houses once again getting smaller, and after a few more haphazard turns off onto side streets, you realized that there was absolutely nothing around you except open fields, with a few houses in the far distance beyond the rolling hills. While you could probably reach them if you needed to, it would only be if the fields were level, and this field looked like it gave way to a creek not too far off.

The Benz suddenly stopped in the middle of the road. "Now what?" the taxi driver asked, obviously amused by the predicament. The younger man from before opened the door, and with a great air began walking towards the taxi. He is much more intimidating now that you see him straight on. Although he is not buff, he is very well built and intimidating - strong facial structure outlines a hard set jaw, no doubt behind which his teeth were grinding. His hair was down to his shoulders but he wore it flawlessly, as if every hair was in place despite the length. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, the type of which you only owned two of this man looked like it was probably one of hundreds in his wardrobe, finishing the look with a trenchcoat that must have cost thousands.

He approached the window by which you are sitting. Hesitantly, you roll it down and make eye contact. "If I may have a word with you," he says, stepping aside and opening his arm graciously towards the rolling field.

Do you go with him?

Yes.

Be sure to give him plenty of opportunity to sucker punch and/or murder you as well.

Without hesitation, you step out of the taxi cab. "Hey, hey hey!" the taxi driver calls after you, "what about your fare, huh?" The other man walks up to the driver and hands him some cash.

"You'll get the rest of your due should you stay and wait for my friend," he says to the driver.

"Alright," the driver responds hesitantly, "but you have ten minutes. I have other customers, you know?"

"Of course," the man says, "I'm sorry this has become so burdensome." He turns to you, "shall we?" he says to you with a polite smile. You are hesitant to believe that any human could be so kind despite your obvious attempts to stalk him, but you find that you have no choice but to do as he asks. As you begin to walk, he falls into step beside you. You go off a ways, just enough to be out of earshot but still to be in eyesight. "This is why when need be I will use my father's chauffeur - taxi drivers can get so tiresome, don't you think?" he asks, coming to a stop. He waits only a second before smiling a little wider, "I'm kidding, of course. Its a joke." He lets out a polite laugh under his breath, and you try to do the same. He stops laughing and takes an appraising look of you - your clothes, your hair, and your probably very gaunt expression after the events of the previous night. "Father has become quite agitated by the wedding. He gets that way sometimes when he over exerts himself. He is the bride's eldest uncle, though he looks older than that I will admit," the man pauses for a moment before continuing, "I'm sorry I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is James Irwing. If you continue going up this road, you will run into our house - in fact, you right now are standing on our land. Father would like you to drop by tonight or tomorrow morning, but" he said, giving you one more thorough look, "it might be best for you to come by tomorrow morning, as he is in no state for company. Shall we be expecting you at oh, eleven o'clock?"

Rip his clothes off and rape him.