Writing lore for any of your role ideas (v2)

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Old thread - viewtopic.php?f=53&t=82753

I'm back from the dead and still writing lore for your role ideas. That is all.

Samples can be found on my previous thread, but here's one or two.

Time Keeper -
Spoiler: A petrichor filled the Time Keeper's lungs as he awoke to find himself lying on his back in the middle of the town, raindrops bouncing off his face as he looked upwards into the eye of the storm. Exerting a great portion of his remaining strength, he dragged himself to his feet and made his way towards the house of his target.

The guardian of time peered through a window into the house, making out the silhouette of the Doctor, who was packing up his belongings as he prepared to go and watch over a townsperson for the night in case the Coven struck once again. Little did the Doctor know, that the man he planned on saving was a grizzly veteran with a horrific past that had left him paranoid of the outside world. However, the Time Keeper knew this, and he also knew how it all ended, for he had seen it with his own two eyes. Now, the Time Keeper had created his very own wormhole and travelled through it, desperately trying to prevent the tragedy by bending the very fabric of time.

The Doctor opened the door of his house and hugged his young daughter before shutting the door in an attempt to prevent the rain from getting in, coming face to face with the time traveller. The time traveller attempted to explain to the Doctor why he couldn't visit his patient that night, but the Doctor was ultimately dismissive of his pleading, labelleling the traverser of time as an insane Jester who should be seeking asylum elsewhere. In a last-ditch effort, the Time keeper grabbed the Doctor and attempted to physically restrain him, but he quickly found himself overpowered as he had been drastically weakened by his time-tampering. The Time Keeper once again found himself lying on his back, fading into unconsciousness as the relentless rain hammered down upon him from the Heavens above. He heard the Doctor's footsteps grow more and more distant before drifting away into the dreamworld.

The sun rose over Salem the next day, and the Time Traveller was met with a familiar sight as he dragged his weak body to the town's center.

Butcher -
Spoiler: The Spy woke up in a cold sweat, having fallen asleep on the job once again. He grabbed his binoculars that lay in the grass beside him and focused on the house that he was surveying. He let out a gasp as the binoculars gradually focused on the Butchers, showing him that his target had vanished from the table they had previously been sitting at, chopping away aimlessly at a variety of meats with a blunt knife.

The man sprung to his feet as he heard a rustling sound emanating from the bushes behind him, but it was too late. The Butcher sprung out of the foliage and pounced on her terrified target, pinning him to the ground as a sickening smile spread across her face. The Spy opened his mouth to let out a scream, but his cries for help went unheard as the Butcher dragged him into the night, never to be seen nor heard from again.

The sun rose over Salem the following day, and it was business as usual at the Butchers. A young child strode into the store, proudly clasping a five-dollar bill in his hand as he reached up and placed it onto the counter. "Your tastiest meat, please!", the little boy chirped as the Butcher emerged from the back of the shop. "Coming right up, little man" spoke the Butcher softly as she walked back into the rear of the store, that sickly smile spreading across her face once more. "You're in luck; this is fresh from last night".

Coward -
Spoiler: The man continued running, evading his pursuer by any means necessary as he fled through the tangled trees that were strewn throughout the seemingly endless forest. He heard a scream from behind him but dared not look back; for he knew he was no hero.

A bright light attracted the man's attention and he sprinted towards it, becoming more fatigued with each stride he took closer to what he could only hope was safety. The light glistened, illuminating the decayed sign that stood beneath. "Salem", the sign read. The man knew he had no choice but to follow the road ahead, seeing a row of houses in the distance and hearing the sound of sticks snapping underfoot from behind him, signalling that his pursuer was still hot on his heels.

After what felt like hours of running in place, the man reached the nearest house and desperately pounded on the door, praying that its occupant was home and willing to accept moribund visitors. To his delight, the door swung open and an elderly woman stood before him. She ushered him inside as he broke down before her, desperately trying to explain his situation. She laid him down in the spare room with a large open window, allowing the moon to shine in and illuminate the room. The sound of a doorbell filled the mans ears, and he was paralysed with fear. The sound of a door opening followed by a horrifying scream echoed through the house, and the man exited the house through the window, hitting the ground running.

The coward ran off into the shadows once again, looking back at the house to see the Serial Killer staring at him from the window with the moon reflecting off his black jacket which had been stained with the blood of the coward's temporary protector. The coward let out a sigh of relief as he vanished into the forest, knowing he had lived to die another day.

Hopefully this is still allowed, will add all the other pieces I wrote to the thread at a later date. I look forward to reading through more intriguing role ideas.

[Cinba]

Can you make a lore for my role, the Sociopath?
Link
Thx

[largewhale96]

[DELETED]

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Can you make a lore for my role, the Sociopath?
Link
Thx

The Sociopath was never really normal. He possessed an astounding amount of wit from a very young age, yet his teachers would always complain about how he was relentless in his distraction of the other students, failing test after test despite having the potential to surpass all in his class. His mother blamed it on the disappearance of his father, stating that it had left him with a copious amount of emotional trauma, but the young boy was very aware that the reason he never applied himself was because he took a great amount of joy in disrupting the flow of his monotonous day-to-day life.

It wasn't until he was inevitably kicked out of his school that things really escalated. The boy, now in his late-teens, found himself on the wrong side of the law - although this did nothing but excite him. He had always suspected that the Jailor played a large part in the disappearance of his father, so he made it his mission to make sure that the Jailor was never able to end the life of another innocent again, dissuading him from executing his prisoners through a variety of notes in which he posed as members of the Mafia. One thing lead to another, and the sociopath found himself not only meddling in the Jailor's affairs, but with the entire policing body of the town.

On a night no more unusual than any other, he slipped into the Jailor's shack on the edge of the town, forged papers in hand. However, he was met with a grizzly sight. The Jailor lay in a pool of his own blood, with the door to his holding cell having been ripped to pieces by what the man could only consider to have been some kind of superhuman. Reaching down towards the Jailor, the Sociopath quickly recoiled as what he had previously thought to be a corpse twitched. He watched intently. There it was again, another twitch. Steeling himself, the maniac reached down once again and retrieved the Jailor's gun from his severed arm. Sensing movement, the Jailor looked up at him, taking in his final breaths. The man's eyes widened as he realised who stood before him; it was unmistakbly the child of the man whom he had controversially executed on account of arson all those years ago.

Cocking the gun, the Sociopath placed it against the head of his father's killer, finger itching to pull the trigger. "Is this because of what I did to your father?" The Jailor whispered, quietly fading into oblivion. "No" The Sociopath responded, putting his figure to the trigger. "I never really liked him".