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 Post subject: Re: RPG #6
PostPosted: Sun Jun 19, 2016 1:20 am 
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May 3, 2014
10:58 PM


“Christ Almighty, Montgomery! You’re gonna give me a *(censored)*’ aneurism.” Jacobs bellowed in the hallway leading to the Lookouts’ locker room after a particularly tight win.
“Haaaa, one can only dream.” Michael Montgomery replied in turn.

The team quickly showered, most ready to go directly home. The cool, damp night crawling its way into their deepest desires to spend a Saturday night doing anything other than sleeping.

Not Danilo Ribeiro, though. The Brazilian heartthrob was determined not to let his perfect hair day go completely to waste. He stood in front of the mirror, primping and thinking aloud. “Nuh-uh. No way. My hair looks too good to go home right now. I'm going out,” he said. He looked around the locker room at his teammates. “Just need a crew.”

He scouted the room for anyone qualified.
“Nick Mattson, of course. Kid’s a beast.” Ribeiro was talking about the team’s backup catcher, mediocre ballplayer but renowned partier. He'd been suspended twice in college for underaged drinking, and that probably hurt his draft stock and chances at getting to the bigs. That didn't stop him, though. He was an obvious choice.

“Phillips? I know homeboy only drinks cosmos, but he’ll be a good ‘presence.’” Danilo continued to look around the room. He spotted the puffy hair of the Lookouts’ solid second baseman, MJ MacKenzie. “MacKenzie? Hm… don’t think I’ve ever talked to him.” He continued to survey the room. “Booker? Hell no. Tomlinson? Nah… too pure.”

Danilo was interrupted by a quiet voice.

“Hey Danilo, you doing anything tonight?”

It was Vincent Snow.

“Uh, I didn't have any definitive plans.”
“Good, then that means you're free to come to this party I'm off to. I'll text you the address. Invite whoever you want.”

Seriously? Snow with the hookup?

“Oh, that's awesome. Thanks man.”
“See you there.”

After such surprising news, Danilo decided it was time to act. He made his way to Mattson’s locker. Without so much as a “you tryna,” Mattson had already agreed. Next he chased down Phillips, who was on his way out.
“Nah, sorry man. Got some stuff I need to do tomorrow morning.”
“Shit, alright.”

Ribeiro opened the locker room doors. Well if it’s just me and one other person showing up, at least it’s me and Matt- He bumped into MJ MacKenzie. His bag fell to the floor, its contents spilling.
“Crap…” MJ muttered
“Oh! Uh… sorry about that.”
“Nah, no worries. Happens all the time, you know?”
“No. No, not really.”
“...Right. Well, uh,” MJ put his last sock back into his bag and threw it over his shoulder, “I guess I’ll be on my way then.”

Danilo watched as the second baseman scuttled down the hallway. Damn… Is this now my moral obligation to invite him to Snow’s thing?

“MacKenzie!”
MJ spun around, “Huh?! Oh.”
“You want to do something tonight? Snow’s got a hookup for a party. You wanna come?”
“Snow? Like, Vincent?”
“Yeah I know, what the *(censored)*?”
“Uh… I mean, I guess so, yeah.”

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 Post subject: Re: RPG #6
PostPosted: Tue Jun 21, 2016 10:03 pm 
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May 3, 2014
11:32 PM


Ribeiro delivered two swift knocks followed by a kick to the door.
“Christ,” gasped MacKenzie, “Snow’s got a shockingly nice house.”
“There’s no *(censored)* way this is his house,” Mattson swiftly replied

The door pried open, and behind it stood an outlandishly jovial Vincent Snow. “Danilo! Mattson! ...And MJ! Wow, look at that. What a crew!”
“Yeah, yeah. Get out of the way, Snow.” Nick Mattson pushed his way past Vincent Snow and into a sea of strangers.
“Nice house you got here, Vin.” MJ was the next to walk in
“Hah! I wish. Nah, this is my buddy’s.”
“Figured.” Ribeiro dryly commented, looking at the artwork hanging in the hallway. “Is this Shiny Disco Balls?”
“Sure is!” Vincent Responded
“Jesus.”
“Haha… yeah… Well! Anyways,” Vincent Snow pointed to the kitchen, “drinks are over there. And,” he pointed down the hall, “other stuff’s down the hall.” He said with a wink.
“Cool.” Ribeiro said
“Thanks for the invite, Vin.” MJ said, trying to make nice
“No problem, MJ! Now go on, have some fun you two.”
“Yep. See you, Snow.” Ribeiro was clearly done with speaking to Vincent Snow. “MJ.” Ribeiro turned the young Lookout to face him, “I’m going to go into the kitchen and drink just an obscene amount of rum. Don’t try to keep up with me. Trust me, it wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“O... Okay.”

Rather than follow Danilo into the kitchen, MJ decided to walk down the hall to see what this ‘other stuff’ was. When he walked in the room, the five occupants all simultaneously turned their head to see who had entered. When they saw MJ’s smile, they immediately welcomed him in.
“Welcome, traveller.” said a scruffy man in a purple t-shirt. “How do you do?”
“Please, take a seat.” said a young woman wearing a light green sundress. She pushed an ottoman over to MJ, he obliged.
“We were just making some pasta.” The scruffy man said, his face over a hotplate, “one of my favorites, actually--Rigatoni.”
“There’s almost an aura drawing me to this dish, no lie.” said another young woman, astonishingly gorgeous with blonde hair cut at her shoulders.
“Johnny’s pasta is the only reason I’m here, to be completely honest.” a black haired man bluntly stated.
“Vincent told me about this stuff--figured I had to try it out.” a third woman said.

MJ was very overwhelmed. He didn’t really understand what he had just walked into. Where was he? What was with this pasta? Why was it so good? MJ was a big fan of pasta, so he knew from the very beginning that he was going to have some--even though it was being cooked on a hotplate on the ground instead of in the kitchen, which he did find a little strange.

The woman in the sundress spoke up again, “How much longer Johnny?”
“Probably only a few more minutes. Infinitesimal amount of time, really.” The scruffy man, Johnny, replied
“Wonderful.”
How exciting! MJ thought.

bing.
“It is complete. Everyone grab a plate, and please--dig in.” Johnny announced.
Sundress was the first to take a bite, “Delicious.”
Blunt man was second, “as usual, Johnny. Incredible.”
Gorgeous followed suit, “An astounding assault to the taste buds.”
The third woman was surprised, “This certainly wasn’t what I was expecting. But… Simply indescribable.”
MJ was the last to take a bite. Here goes nothing!

The pasta was strange. It had a twinge of a sweet flavor to it, almost candy like. He sniffed it and took another bite. The second bite was more of the same.
“So,” Johnny leaned in, “what do you think, New One?”
“It’s… different.” MJ started, “But… I think I like it.”
The room began a raucous applause, “Most wonderful!” they kept repeating. “It should kick in in about 15 minutes.”
“...huh?”

MJ was shooed out of the room and left to fend for himself in the dark hallway. Increasingly dark and small. He walked down back to the kitchen, he needed to find Ribeiro. Kick in…? Crap, what the hell did I just eat? MJ passed Vincent in the hallway.
“MJ? Did you-Were you just in there with Johnny?”
“Huh? Uh, yeah, why?”
“His pasta’s pretty tight, huh?”
“Unhhhh.” MJ pushed his way past Vincent
“Why do people keep doing that? I can just move out of their way… Man! Oh well.”

MJ was at this point running to the kitchen, how long was this damned hallway?!

-WHOOPWHOOP-
Sirens?! Not now… Not now!

The music came to a dead stop. The screams and laughter and noise all quickly halted.
“GET OUTTA HERE!” shouted an unfamiliar voice.
That was MJ’s plan from the beginning! Time to get moving on out of here, no? But! Ribeiro! Where was he? Where did he go?
______________

Does MJ go after his matey or?????? If the mysterious owner of MJ could shoot me a PM, that'd be wonderful c:

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 Post subject: Re: RPG #6
PostPosted: Tue Jun 28, 2016 1:59 am 
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Favorite Japanese title: Don't Own
May 4, 2014
12:19 AM


I can’t leave Danilo behind! MJ stopped in his tracks, the door right in front of him. The back door, not the front. That would’ve been foolish of him to run straight into the police presence here at the house. He spun around.
Where’d he go?! Where… Where was he? MacKenzie stood still, hand on his chin, eyes affixed on his navel. Kitchen! He remembered! He fought the torrent of partygoers and went upstream to the kitchen.

The kitchen’s walls were a dark shade of yellow. A bit ugly, MJ thought. But that wasn’t what he had gone into the kitchen to do--look at the walls; no, he went for his teammate, Danilo Ribeiro. But he wasn’t there. In fact there was no one there. An empty room. An empty house? No, can’t be empty. Just saw all those people leave. MJ thought, shaking his head. He had to keep pressing on, go deeper into the house to find his friend.

Beyond the kitchen was a room with wood-panelled flooring and an expensive-looking chandelier hanging above an elegant table. The dining room, MJ deduced. Contrary to the kitchen, it was packed. People seemed to be filing in and out constantly, the overall number in the room remaining constant. MJ prepared himself to push through the crowd in search of Danilo with a deep breath, but almost as soon as he stepped forward everyone moved, as if they were parting to give him a path through the chaos. “Danilo!” He cried. Silence. He mustn’t be here, either. MJ figured.

MJ rounded the dining room table and entered the next room, one with walls a hideous shade of yellow. Wait... MJ looked around the empty kitchen. That can’t be right. He turned around and went back into the dining room.

The dining room seemed smaller this time, and there was no one inside. The table was gone, too, as was the chandelier. In their place was a white, porcelain chair and a telephone booth of some sort. MJ, confused, looked around. There was someone, it turned out, in the room with him. A curly-haired man about his age made eye contact with MJ. His face was swollen horribly. MJ couldn’t stand to look at him any longer, and quickly turned. Just as he did, the man with the puffy face looked away as well. Wait… MJ turned back to the man, who turned back as well. A mirror! MJ touched his face gingerly. His face didn’t feel swollen, but it certainly didn’t look right. Heart racing, he quickly exited the bathroom.

A wonderful armoire, stained a deep chestnut stood tall in the room. The mere sight of it struck MJ with Awe. There Must Have Been At Least 7 Drawers On That Thing! Plus, the incredible handiwork, the small intricate details hand carved onto the base of the bottom drawer. What were they? Small boats shook in large waves, each one looking more like the last. MJ followed the boats. They ended their voyage at the edge. His eyes rolled about the room; the king sized bed looked so inviting. Its dimensions truly lifelike, he jumped on.

“Where are you?” Danilo asked
“I’m here, Dan.” MJ replied
“What’s that do for me?”
“huh?”
“The bed, what’s good for it?”
“You want to buy it?”
“I appreciate you coming back for me, by the way. Even if you haven’t found yet.”
“True, you’re welcome.”

MJ emerged in the foyer. Only Johnny was in there. “Hey man, how’s it going?”
“Wha… WHAT the hell did you give me?”
“Opened your eyes, dude. You’re what? 20? Twenty? What, Twenty?”
“...”
“Audible silence! Look at that! That’s pretty impressive! ‘...’ Not many people can say that, man! Look, there’s really something you should know, this doesn’talwaysgowellthefirsttimearound, you hearme? One of my boys, vincentactuallyhadalotoftroublewhenhetrieditoutthefirsttimebutithink,atleastthatwhenhetrieditoutthesecondtimearound,hehadnoqualmswithit.umbeliveable, rogjt ?somethignsaretrulybeyondthecomprehensionofthemindand--”
“AHHHHHHHHHHHH”” MJ screamed (like a girl! )
__”who,anoneedtocutmeofftherechamp, but if i t ‘ s s o m e th in g th a t ‘ s bothering y ou, I wo’nt pester. Butyour’efriend, yeah. He’s in the next room. Just out that do o r.”

JOhnny, Mister Gruff, “The Gruff, Scruffyman”, McDermont pointed in the general direction of the wall. There wasn’t a door there. In fact, it was just a wall. Why did it seem that there was only one way in and out of this room? Surely a foyer would have more than one point of egress?

[i Out I go! /[i He outted from the door he went in. That should have been italic.
{Get out.}
Enough of your childish games. He does not understand the point of this, therefore there is no point to it.
{He needs to find his friend! How else is this update supposed to end?}
He will find his Danilo. Danilo has been looking for him this whole time. You’ve been too busy confusing him to notice that. Regardless, this is obvious enough without you making the font larger. Get to work.
{...}

The door swung open. MJ was outside. The home’s shadow covered him entirely. The smoke billowed. He was blinded by the bright orange of the flames.

“MJ!” the fog covering his senses dimmed, “Holy shit, MJ!”

He slowly began to feel the hands carrying him.
As quickly as the sensation of them appeared, it left. Replaced with the cold, unforgiving flatness of the grass. He was turned over to face the night sky. A face blocked his view of the stars.

“What the hell were you doing? Why did you go back in there?! MJ! MJ!!”

He was slapped.

The face came into focus, “Da… Danilo? Where were you?”
“I’ve been out here the whole time looking for you, you idiot! Mattson had to go back in there and get you.”
“You were pretty far gone, there MacKenzie.” Mattson said, “you were screaming about some boats or some shit when I picked you up.”
“I… I thought you… were still in there Danilo… I had to go and… Go and pick you up.”
“Hah!” Danilo ran his hands through his hair, “Well, I appreciate your concern for me, but… Running into a burning house is usually not the best idea.”
“...Burning?” MJ looked at the house, “...It looks fine to me.”

May 4, 2014
12:24 AM


“Danilo!” MJ cried.
A head whipped up from the dining room table, “WHA--huh?”
“Didn’t you hear tha-------------”
“MJ…?”

MacKenzie fell to the ground with an unceremonious thud.
“MJ! Holy shit, MJ!” Danilo ran over to his teammate and quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Mattson, I need you to help me with MJ.”
“Unh, I’ll be right there.”

May 4, 2014
5:38 PM


“Guhhh”
“You’re late, MacKenzie!” Jacobs' eternal level 11 volume was particularly grating.
“Unhhhh.”
“Not even going to grace me with a response? No excuse? No retort?! Pah!”

MJ continued to his locker and began changing.

After Jacobs’ lecture on the fundamentals of “not being a piece of garbage team,” Danilo tapped MJ on the back. “We’re never speaking of last night again, okay? That shit’s between you, Mattson, and me. No one else.”
“...Mmhm.”

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 Post subject: Re: RPG #6
PostPosted: Tue Jun 28, 2016 12:54 pm 
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Favorite Team: Red Sox
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Favorite Japanese title: Don't Own
legendary


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 Post subject: Re: RPG #6
PostPosted: Thu Jul 07, 2016 7:24 pm 
Power Pro Legend
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Location: Yes
Favorite Team: Red Sox
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Console '08: Wii and DS
Favorite Japanese title: (PS3) Jikkyou Powerful Pro Yakyuu 2011
May 20, 2014
9:34 AM


“Ugh.”

Michael Montgomery rolled out of bed with a grunt. Oh, how he hated that dingy team bus. His entire body was sore despite that he’d spent the last eight hours passed out on his tempurpedic mattress. He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his eyes, grateful to finally have a day off.

After the team bus had rolled into town in the earliest hours of the day, returning from Mobile, Alabama, the groggy and weary-eyed Lookouts all filed into their cars and headed to their respective lodging. Most headed downtown, where they rented ill-kempt studio apartments for dirt cheap. But not Michael. His parents were supporting him, and his mother would not accept that her baby live in the more dangerous parts of town. So, he lived almost thirty minutes from the stadium, in a reasonable apartment complex in a well-off suburb. As such, he had nothing to do.

The lookouts were playing well, Michael included. As the team’s record steadily improved to 25-20, more and more scouts from the big league club were showing up. Everyone had noticed, and it seemed like everyone was playing just a little bit harder. Michael himself was now seven for eight in save attempts, and had struck out 16 batters in 14 innings to the tune of a 2.57 ERA. He knew it by heart. He didn’t have to look it up.

Michael took his time undressing and getting into the shower, milking the day for all its worth. He couldn’t wait to feel the hot water pour over his aching muscles. He gave the shower a couple minutes to heat up and stepped in.

“*(censored)*!”

The water was frigid. He involuntarily recoiled as soon as it hit him, looking thoroughly unmasculine in the process.

“God damn piece of shit.”

Michael stepped out and grabbed a towel, giving the water a few more minutes to cooperate. He reached his hand in to find it no warmer than it had been before. With a heavy sigh, he turned the water off and went to find some clothes. Donning a pair of tan shorts and a green and blue checkered button down, he returned to the bathroom to salvage what he could of his hair without a shower before packing his shampoo and conditioner and a towel into a small duffel bag and heading downstairs to find his landlord.

Reese was in his usual spot, reading at his desk near the mailboxes. A thin man in his forties, he’d lost most of his hair and what was left was fully gray. A small pair of reading glasses sat on the tip of his nose. He was pleasant, kind but firm, and as honest a person as you’d ever meet. Michael would never admit it, but as a 19-year old living on his own, he often looked to him for guidance.

“No hot water,” Michael informed him as he absentmindedly looked through his mail.
Reese looked up from his reading and removed his glasses. “What? Again?”
Michael nodded. Reese shook his head.
“Sorry about that. I’ll have to see if it’s the whole building or just a problem on your end. Either way, I’ll have it fixed by the weekend.”
Michael waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. I can shower at the field.”
“That may be so, but the others won’t be nearly as patient.”
Michael smiled. “I’ll pray for you.”
“Even God can’t save me from them.”

Michael laughed and wished him luck as he headed outside to his car, a 2013 silver Lexus GS 350, which he had received as an 18th birthday present from his parents. Summer was just around the corner, but the Tennessee heat had already arrived; it was easily ninety degrees, and the humidity was smothering. The irony of the lack of hot water in the sweltering heat was not lost on Michael as a bead of sweat formed at his hairline. He got into his car and felt like he was suffocating. He scrambled to turn it on and get the A/C going. This is brutal, he thought as he backed out of his parking spot. Soon enough, however, it had cooled down considerably, and by 10:30 he was at AT&T Field. Parking his car in the deserted players’ lot, he grabbed his things and made his way to the back door to the clubhouse.

“Hope this thing’s still busted,” he said to himself as he yanked on the handle. The door opened, and Michael heard the clink of metal on the pavement. “Whoops,” he mumbled, reaching down to pick up an unidentifiable piece of the door’s innards. He tossed it aside and entered the building.

After a short walk, Michael at long last found himself just seconds away from a hot, relaxing shower. He undressed hastily, hanging his shirt in his locker and stuffing the rest into his bag before grabbing his shampoo, conditioner, and towel and heading to the showers.

There were eight shower stalls in the home locker room, and Michael went straight for his favorite. The water pressure was perfect, and he knew just how far to turn the knob for the ideal temperature. He placed his towel on the adjacent hook and stepped in.

The water was cool at first, but as it slowly warmed, Michael’s aches gradually dissipated. He turned to face the stream of water and wetted his hair, letting the stream falling from the from his forehead trickle down his entire body as he closed his eyes and smiled. He imagined his home in Connecticut. The shower in his bathroom there was glorious. An adjustable showerhead, amazing water pressure, and of course never a problem with the heater. He pictured himself there, shampooing in the morning before school, or at night after a game.

*THUD*

Michael was suddenly shaken from his daydreams. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he’d heard something. He opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder, listening intently. The last thing he wanted was someone else using the team showers, interrupting his private-

“Ah, shit!” Michael yelled out as an errant drop of shampoo entered his left eye. His hand reflexively went to rub it, inadvertently smearing even more into it, enhancing the burning sensation tenfold.

“*(censored)*!” Michael rinsed his hands thoroughly before rubbing at his eye again.

*THUD*

Michael froze, now too focused on the noise to care about his eye. He definitely heard something that time. His heart pounded. He knew it was probably just one of his teammates - I mean, who else would know that door’s lock was busted - but… that was a really loud thud. It sounded almost… violent.

The door to the shower room opened. Michael definitely heard that. “Hey, this is a private event!” he joked, hoping that whoever it was would hear only the witty remark and not the fear in his voice. When no response came, he poked his head out and surveyed the room with his good eye.

No one was there.

Okay, that’s it, Michael thought. I’m losing it. I’m going *(censored)* mad. It’s the heat. It’s making me hear things. No one’s here, why would anyone else be here? I’m completely alone. Completely… alone…

Michael’s ears betrayed him once more. Faintly, beyond the wall, he heard voices.

---

What will Mr. Monty do? Will the owner of him PM JP with their answer?!

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 Post subject: Re: RPG #6
PostPosted: Thu Jul 07, 2016 10:51 pm 
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Joined: Wed Jun 09, 2010 9:50 am
Posts: 10505
Location: Hots'Ville, Mars
Favorite Team: Brewers
Console '07: Don't Own
Console '08: Nintendo Wii
Favorite Japanese title: Don't Own
Love reading this beaut!
detroittigers15 wrote:
There Must Have Been At Least 7 Drawers On That Thing!

I like this lol

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 Post subject: Re: RPG #6
PostPosted: Thu Jul 07, 2016 11:22 pm 
Wiki Contributor
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BrewersFuzz wrote:
Love reading this beaut!
detroittigers15 wrote:
There Must Have Been At Least 7 Drawers On That Thing!

I like this lol

Give Tweav credit for that, he did most of the trippy stuff. ;)

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