"You will hang for your pact with the devil!" // 4/4 // Closed, but stalkers welcome!

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

As folklore goes, when a women agreed to suckle the child of the devil, she was given special power. Dark, black magic. She would use this magic to torture and feed off the others of the village, to grow stronger so she could support the devil's child. This child was often seen in the form of a familiar, as a black cat or other animal. It would latch onto the woman's body and drink the power from her, often leaving a freckle, mole, or birthmark like spot.

These women? They were called witches.

The only way to purify a community of the lord was to hang the witch.

Salem, 1693. A war has broken out, one of neighbor against neighbor. Friend against friend. Sister against sister. The Salem witch trials.

You will hang for your pact with the devil.

Okay, hi! If you made it this far, this is an rp I want to try out. Basically, we'll make some normal people in Salem in 1693 and see what happens! People will turn against each other and accuse them of being witches, and then the townsfolk will decide their fate. (Men are susceptible to being accused as well, though it's less likely.) This one will be a big trigger warning, as there will likely be torture and death. Please say what you're comfortable with before we start. Also, lgbtq+ accepted and welcomed! Just remember, it IS the 1690s, so if someone's lgbt they will likely be accused of being a witch. Have some fun with it! It's gonna be great.

(gasp) My story is actually kind of like this! I might want practice writing something like this so may I?)

((Sure! Can I have a writing sample real quick?))

((Yep! Can you also post a writing sample please?))

(Sure! It’s a little long. Also context: the characters are apart of a gang called Deck of Cards, so the Aces and Diamonds thing are ranks)

The back alley looked almost gold as the light of the sunset hit it. The city seemed to be settling into the golden hour of the day where everything quieted down, less traffic and noise, less people. Just the sunset and the city.
And the two most dangerous gangs around, of course.
Reed Darwin yawned. This back alley was one of his favorite places to watch the golden hour. He knew he should probably be back at the base, as the golden hour is also a good time to carry out missions, but it’s not like he was an Ace or a Diamond.
Talon Pierce, a Heart and a good friend, sat next to him smoking. Reed always thought that was ironic, a medic who smoked. He told Talon so when they joined the Deck of Cards, but he just shrugged it off.
Talon’s dreadlocks hung over his tired face, and his arms lay loosely on his knees, the cigarette inserted delicately between his pointer and middle fingers. He sighed, saying, “What do you think?”
The graffiti on the opposite wall seemed to stare at them expectantly. In a medieval font, with black paint, the words “Play Your Cards Right” were accompanied by a king card, looking like it was floating in midair.
Reed leaned on the wall with one foot, his lips pursed, holding a can of spray paint at his side. With a small, “Hmm,” he pushed his foot off the wall and walked up to the graffiti, signing, ‘- DoC’ and ‘Mercury’s Painter’ at the bottom.
“Finished and polished.” He grinned back at Talon, making the ok sign with his free hand. His blue hair looked almost sea green, and his skin glowed bronze in the gold light. He walked back over to Talon, where the alley was covered in shadow.
Talon took a drag on the cigarette. “Wonderful work as always, my dude. But we should be heading back.”
As much as Reed hated to admit it, he was right. They’d been there for about an hour, with fifteen minutes of the golden hour spent. They couldn’t stay longer, lest a stray police officer happened upon them.
“Fine. Are we taking the shortcut?” He started packing up his supplies.
“Yeah, it should be fine.”
“Alright. You wanna race?”
“No way in heck, dude. Amir got a freaking bullet to the shoulder earlier today! The energy has sapped from my body, bro. Plus, it would be more conspicuous if we ran.”
“Fine, fine. Calm down, bro.”
At this point, Reed had packed up his supplies in his messenger bag, and the two boys starting traversing the maze of alleyways bathed in golden light. It was so beautiful, with the sun setting to the west, the city rich with opportunity, Reed almost expected something to go wrong.

((Love it, both of you! You're in!!))

(Thanks :D)

((Lemme throw in one of my samples real quick, and then we'll talk characters!))

((Definitely don't expect you to write this much! XD))

"Yeah, you can start with a pen!" Flynn smiled, straightening up from the drawer. He grabbed a black ballpoint pen off of the top of the bedside table and tossed it lightly to Eli. "Just anywhere on the wall is fine. I also want to put our handprints up there eventually, but that'll be messy. Maybe some other time," he thought aloud. Stooping back over, Flynn continued to rummage through the wide drawer until he found what he was looking for and pulled it out triumphantely. It was a human skull, at least a few decades old by the looks of it. The jaw was still attatched to the bottom - most likely glued shut at the hinge. However, it wasn't just a regular old human skull. Flynn had painted flowers on it, beautiful bursts of blue, red, yellow, and purple against the pure white. Delicately painted vines and leaves twirled around the flowers, weaving them together in a little dance.

Flynn set it carefully on Eli's bed, still staring at it. For once, he wasn't grinning like a fool. "It reminds me of you," he said softly, still staring at the empty sockets of the skull. Flynn shook his head quickly, suddenly realizing he might sound like a creep. "I mean- Let me explain." Flynn picked the skull up gently, as if it were a frail baby, then perched on the end of Eli's bed. He didn't look up at him, still staring down at the thing in his lap. "For me, this project means a lot. I um…." he trailed off, struggling to get the words out. "I killed someone a long time ago. No, this isn't their skull. I found this one in a collapsed catacombs while I was exploring a few hundred years ago. But that's not the point," Flynn said softly. "The point is, I'm a murderer. I didn't have a motive. Something just came over me and I did it, for fun I guess. I paid the price for it. I still do, to this day." He paused, his voice dark. "I'm a murderer. But I like to think that I've changed since then. I like to think I'm a better person now. And I'll always be a murderer, but maybe I'm not a really bad one. I'll never really forgive myself for taking that person's life away. I won't. But I do like to think I've changed since then. Our mistakes do make up a large part of us, yes. But they don't define us. I am not just a murderer. I'm a painter, and a writer, and a singer, and a murderer. I'm Flynn. And I think it's important to know that. I want you to know that." He paused again, then finally looked up at Eli. His eyes glistened slightly, but the threat of tears was over at this point. "Now, this project. I'm painting flowers on a skull. Why is that important? Well… flowers mean rebirth. Flowers come in the spring, when everything is new and full of life. Flowers mean change, for me." He briefly glanced over to the flowers on his wall, then looked back to Eli. "So yes, I'm a murderer, represented by the skull. But the flowers represent something new, a new birth out of an old death." He let those words sink in for a moment, liking how that was phrased. "A new birth out of an old death…" he whispered to himself, looking back down at the skull again. Flynn smiled and looked up at Eli, holding out the thing to him. "It reminds me of you because I feel like this is a new rebirth. This is a new chapter in my life, that I'm looking forward to spending with you. I hope you do, too."

(That is one heck of a speech)

((No kidding XD. Would you two prefer templates or just jump right in?))

(Templates, pls?)

((Alright! I'll get to work on my charrie - it might be a while, cause homework - and then I'll put a template up))

(K)

(Was researching a bit, and found some 17th century slang if anyone wants it :) https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/500833/30-excellent-terms-17th-century-slang-dictionary)

(Btw, starting school tomorrow)

((Cool! And same, so don't worry))

For the template, just include (or add more to):

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Looks:
Personality:
Likes and dislikes:

(Thanks! Question: can the characters have actual powers or are they gonna be average joes?)

((Hm… let’s spice it up a bit. They can have powers, as long as they aren’t OP))

(Awesome)

(It’s almost 2am but who cares. She good?)

Name: Dove Sokolov
Age: 15
Gender: female
Sexuality: ace, probably panromantic
Looks: she’s albino (oh boy she def a witch), so she’s got pure white wavy hair that goes down to a little past her shoulders, milky skin, and pale periwinkle eyes. 5’1 and has a pear-shaped body.

She be lookin’ a little edgy here-
Personality: INFP- an idealist, calm and reserved on the outside, passionate on the inside. Driven by her morality, and often drifts into deep thought. Quiet and introverted. Very sensitive and sometimes impractical. Not a morning person. Will sing her favorite songs like there’s no tomorrow. Keeps a journal where she writes poetry or just gets her feelings out.
Likes and dislikes: poetry, music, cooking, meaningful conversations, birds, her Grandmother, etc/ cats and dogs, stress, waking up, small talk, etc.
Abilities: can transform into a dove, telekinesis, and healing (can heal herself and recover from illnesses quickly)
Conditions: because she’s albino, she has photophobia, nystagmus, and nearsightedness

((Love her! She's good!))

(Thanks!)

(I love him Ash!)

((Love him! I'm almost done with mine, and then I'll get a starter up!))