mayfield_mods: (Default)
Mayfield Mods ([personal profile] mayfield_mods) wrote in [community profile] mayfield_rpg2012-09-07 01:27 pm
Entry tags:

event: portal seven | the void



The final portal doesn't seem to be a portal at all. It's a glitch hole.

Located on the lawn of the library is a hole much like the ones that have plagued every new location for the past week. As with them, it hurts your eyes to look at too long, but even if you should muscle past the pain and stare straight into it, you can make out nothing on the other side. Nothing, save for a shifting, twitching, swirling void.

Unlike the portals, which were vertically placed like doorways, the hole at the Library is strewn across the lawn: if you want to enter it, you're going to have to jump. Of course, there's no guarantee it will even lead anywhere. Touching the hole or sticking your arm in doesn't have any effect: you'll pull your arm out unharmed. As far as jumping in completely goes, those who jump in disappear from sight. As long as you're on the Mayfield side, there's no way to tell what lies beyond the hole.

There's only one way to find out.

[ooc: Feel free to roleplay up to the point your characters jump in, assuming they do. A single group subthread will be created in a few hours revealing what happens on the other side.]
strike_you_out: (boy next door)

[personal profile] strike_you_out 2012-09-12 04:02 am (UTC)(link)
[At the sudden lack of resistance, Slugger catches himself from nearly tripping backwards. A moment is taken to stare briefly at the severed hand on the ground, then at Charles. He doesn't know how exactly it happened, but it was cool.]

Thanks.

[Once again he starts moving, this time keeping away from the walls but still holding his bat at the ready.]

So what are you, exactly?
encored: (without grudge or grumblings)

[personal profile] encored 2012-09-12 08:21 am (UTC)(link)
[and he'll just casually be kicking that severed hand back out into the abyss, because he doesn't want to share his space for even a second with something unpleasant to look at.]

Think nothing of it. [his nose is wrinkled in an expression of mild irritation, but none of it reaches his words. he'll definitely be keeping his distance and guard up after that, though.]

What am I? A Chiropteran, by species. By uneducated colloquial terms, a vampire. [he'd explain it with more depth and pride on any other occasion, but his attention is pretty divided as things stand.]