Morning dawns again in the hotel, after a night the guests are hoping that the past unsettling events will fade into history. This is shockingly disproved when the guests come upon their friend from yesterday, MRS. TOTTINGTON!!! She is by the pool. She looks like she was smashed by some sort of sharp implement while she was sitting in one of the deck chairs. It obviously happened during the night. A slightly crumpled piece of paper was on the ground that had a drawing of a sunset but in many blue and purple shades with a short poem at the bottom, it looks as if it has been accidentally walked on. Also found in the nearby shrubs was a marshmallow. The guest are stunned by the sight as jayclones rush on the scene to try and get things back under control.
OOC: What do we do again if we're suspicious of ourselves?
OOC: If you are suspicious of anyone you can accuse the person (even if it is yourself) in a declarative post if you are correct then the host will post the conclusion to the game. If you are wrong, you will be eliminated…. If you are smashed you can get one of the still active players to make an accusation for you btw. Hope that helps. : D
Essa Kryze Have I joined this round, or is this presently a new round?
Glad you brought that up, you can definitely be in this round if you wish. Are you still using a past bio? I did choose to continue the round that Jaypie had going (even though she wanted the next host to start over) so there won't be a new round till the smasher is caught. : )
*Name: Lolimon Pippinpaddleopsicopolis Aliases: Kuzon Thiotherside, Yesir-Yesir Thribagsful, Thor Butnotcomplaining, Woodrow Butdonthavapaddle, Francis Fulloffrenchpeople, Ken Youdigit, Arthur Animordougnuts, Rhett Alil'Outroundthawaist, Ben'Ronin Formiles, and Aang Inthere
*Personality: Sweet, kind, and tons of fun to be around. He's friendly to everyone he meet, but sticks close to his core friends and family. he isn't bothered by little things, and tries to avoid confrontation when he can. He tries to listen to everyone, but doesn't hesitate to shut down someone who's being a jerk. He has a simple, loving nature, and an innate sense of right and wrong. He's also a mildly reckless and impulsive person who often runs headlong into dangerous situations without thinking twice. When he does realize he is stuck in a predicament, Lolimon often gives vent to his feelings with an anguished cry of ‘Monkey feathers!’
*Favorite color: orange, but not bright orange, orange like the sunset.
*Occupation: Jack-of-all-trades, master of some
*Appearance: Light brown-blonde hair, clear grey-blue eyes, medium build. Almost always wearing blue and black biking leathers (when in leathers almost never seen without helmet), when not wearing leathers he wears a navy blue tangzhuang with bluejeans. is known to sport excentric yellow and orange robes, especially when exercising through martial arts.
*Backstory: Lolimon was born in London to Charissa Huso Kingston. He lived in a small flat for most of his youth. On Halloween day at a local market, a pumpkin-bomb detonated smashing both his parents. Now orphaned, Lolimon left his London home in favor of globe-trotting, learning all he could about everything he could. it was during his travels that a wealthy businessman named Rascon Pippinpaddleopsicopolis found him and raised him. Rascon had a son of his own about the same age as Lolimon nammed Bumi'i. The pair became the best of friends.
[CONt.]
"Wise words by wise men write wise deeds in wise pen." —Lollimon the Wise
*Skills: Knows most forms of Kung Fu, is an acrobat, master of disguise (for the aliases), Knows a lot more than he should about how the world works, and is consequently wise(er than most his age). His skills also include parkour, gymnastics, pickpocketing, safecracking, and running on wires. Observes more than what he lets on.
What would be in your bags on vacation?
Hygiene items, some books, clothes, writing material, wand, dynomite, oregano... office supplies. Bag would likely be Newt Scmander type suitcase. Weapon of choice?
Lolimon employs evasiveness and the use of his environment to his advantage in his fighting styles, prefers hands or staff, can work with what's at hand if need-be. How do you do under pressure?
He manages to retain his playful personality at times, though he is also more serious and decisive. Is easily angered at injustice done to all but himself.
"Wise words by wise men write wise deeds in wise pen." —Lollimon the Wise
Tigress, while stunned by the discovery of the smashing and feeling quite sorry for the unfortunate Mrs. Tottington and whatever family she may have, does not hesitate to venture to the body and inspect it. She measures the length and width of the cut the weapon left, trying to figure what it was exactly. She also bends down and peers at the illustrated piece of paper and picks it up -- but not without putting on a glove first. She doesn't want to cover any fingerprints that might have been left behind. She reads the poem at the bottom, lips moving as she reads.
While Tigress performs a closer examination on Mrs. Tottington, Leaf circles around the site and take as many pictures as she can to document the exact positions of the items found on the scene. She tries to hold back the Jay clones from cleaning and twitches nervously as she eyes the remaining guests with mild horror and suspicion. The photographer feels sick to the stomach, and the sweet chocolate taste from before is entirely forgotten.
OoC: Essa Kryze I can't read. What does the poem say?
While Tigress performs a closer examination on Mrs. Tottington, Leaf circles around the site and take as many pictures as she can to document the exact positions of the items found on the scene. She tries to hold back the Jay clones from cleaning and twitches nervously as she eyes the remaining guests with mild horror and suspicion. The photographer feels sick to the stomach, and the sweet chocolate taste from before is entirely forgotten.
OoC: Essa Kryze I can't read. What does the poem say?
OOC: Good question….it's a good thing that you asked.
The poem reads simply:
Ho ho ho, this lady you find, was once friend of yours, and friend of mine. Now we'll see who gets it next trouble Grows and brings long rest. No one knows where I'll strike next. The Seeds I sow will be the test.
OOC: What do we do again if we're suspicious of ourselves?
OOC: If you are suspicious of anyone you can accuse the person (even if it is yourself) in a declarative post if you are correct then the host will post the conclusion to the game. If you are wrong, you will be eliminated…. If you are smashed you can get one of the still active players to make an accusation for you btw. Hope that helps. : D
OOC: Ok thanks! Not gonna do it though, to risky and I'm already thinking it's someone else.
OoC: Essa Kryze I can't read. What does the poem say?
OOC: Good question….it's a good thing that you asked.
The poem reads simply:
Ho ho ho, this lady you find, was once friend of yours, and friend of mine. Now we'll see who gets it next trouble Grows and brings long rest. No one knows where I'll strike next. The Seeds I sow will be the test.
Leaf also reads the poem, letting out a little gasp when a sudden realization hits her. The photographer then looks up at the other guests with an expression of horror. "Guys, I can't believe it! Santa is the Smasher!"
OOC: Good question….it's a good thing that you asked.
The poem reads simply:
Ho ho ho, this lady you find, was once friend of yours, and friend of mine. Now we'll see who gets it next trouble Grows and brings long rest. No one knows where I'll strike next. The Seeds I sow will be the test.
Leaf also reads the poem, letting out a little gasp when a sudden realization hits her. The photographer then looks up at the other guests with an expression of horror. "Guys, I can't believe it! Santa is the Smasher!"
OoC:
OoC: XD XD That was funny.
IC: Tigress glances at Leaf. "Uhh. . . maybe?" (xD) She scowls down at the poem. "Brick it, I hate riddles. I can get the last two lines; 'No one knows where I'll strike next, The Seeds I sow will be the test,', which are probably just the writer saying 'ha-ha, I'm totally trolling y'all'." She hesitates. "Or. . . something like that. Um. Anyone got any ideas?"
OOC: Good question….it's a good thing that you asked.
The poem reads simply:
Ho ho ho, this lady you find, was once friend of yours, and friend of mine. Now we'll see who gets it next trouble Grows and brings long rest. No one knows where I'll strike next. The Seeds I sow will be the test.
Leaf also reads the poem, letting out a little gasp when a sudden realization hits her. The photographer then looks up at the other guests with an expression of horror. "Guys, I can't believe it! Santa is the Smasher!"
OoC:
Mock gasps in sudden surprise. "I knew it!" He shouts excitedly. "I always knew there was something off about that guy!"
OOC: If you are suspicious of anyone you can accuse the person (even if it is yourself) in a declarative post if you are correct then the host will post the conclusion to the game. If you are wrong, you will be eliminated…. If you are smashed you can get one of the still active players to make an accusation for you btw. Hope that helps. : D
OOC: Ok thanks! Not gonna do it though, to risky and I'm already thinking it's someone else.
OOC: You're welcome. : D No pressure you have a little time…..maybe. Who knows who will go next…..
Leaf also reads the poem, letting out a little gasp when a sudden realization hits her. The photographer then looks up at the other guests with an expression of horror. "Guys, I can't believe it! Santa is the Smasher!"
OoC:
Mock gasps in sudden surprise. "I knew it!" He shouts excitedly. "I always knew there was something off about that guy!"
Lolimon clutched the grips of his motorbike and starred in horror at the oncoming car. It was careening from side to side on the narrow road, bound to hit him. He brought his bike to a screeching halt and leapt off, sprinting up a steep hillside near the road. Much to his amazement, however, the reckless driver suddenly pulled his car hard to the right and turned abruptly down a side road on two wheels. Lolimon half-expected the car to turn over, but it held fast to the dusty ground and speed off out of sight. He scrambled onto his motorbike and gunned it a little to pass the intersection in a hurry, lest the crazed driver return for another go at him. He rode in silence, gazing at the scene ahead. On his right an embankment of tumbled rocks of all sizes slopped steeply to the creek below. From the opposite side rose a jagged cliff. The little-traveled road was winding, and barely wide enough for two cars to pass. The motorcycle whipped along the narrow road that lead to Brickton, a small but thriving town of forty-eight thousand located some 23 kilobricks from Lego City, and Lolimon's destination. He took the next curve neatly and started up a long, steep slope. Here the road was a mere ribbon, and badly in need of repair. He jounced uncontrollably on the uneven roadwork. Just then, even above the low but sharp put-put of his motor, Lolimon heard the rip-roar of a car approaching from his rear at great speed. Glancing back he saw the same earth green car speeding toward him that had driven so recklessly not two paragraphs ago. At once he stopped and pulled as close to the road's edge as he dared. Quickly he hopped off and stood poised to leap out of danger's way if the need presented itself. The car hurtled toward him like a shot. Just as it seemed it could not miss him, the driver swung the wheel about viciously and the sedan sped past. Re-seating himself once more on his motorcycle, Lolimon drove on.
[CONt.]
"Wise words by wise men write wise deeds in wise pen." —Lollimon the Wise
Had he payed closer attention, he'd seen that he'd missed his turn. As it was, he was noticing a creeping unfamiliarity on the dirt road. Suddenly, Lolimon brought his motorcycle to a stop and peered into a clump of bushes in a deep ditch at the side of the road. Among the bushes was a car wrapped around a tree, the skeletal remains of a deer lay on its hood and through its windshield. The car was a total wreck, a mass of tangled junk with plants growing closely around and inside of it. Lolimon made his way down the culvert, his heart pounding. A closer look into the car and in the immediate vicinity proved that there was no victim around. He concluded that, seeing as it had obviously happened some time ago, the driver had survived. He was completely puzzled by the whole affair. Since his assistance was not needed at the spot, he climbed out of the culvert and back onto his motorcycle. Before long he was in sight of the Hotel Legoith, a rambling Victorian era mansion-made-hotel with an elegant green house in the rear of the property. Driving up the lane and through the car park Lolimon soon parked his motorbike unloaded his suitcase, entered the solid wood front doors and presently stood at the check in, where he was checked in by a pleasant employee. What appeared to be her twin sister took his bag up to his suit at his bidding and after expressing his feeling a bit peckish, was directed by a third identical young woman to the café. Out the café window, Lolimon noted that nearly all the guests were enjoying what appeared to be a poolside brunch. This, however -and as he would soon come to find out after ordering his own brunch of pancakes and coffee-, was far from the case…
"Wise words by wise men write wise deeds in wise pen." —Lollimon the Wise
Had he payed closer attention, he'd seen that he'd missed his turn. As it was, he was noticing a creeping unfamiliarity on the dirt road. Suddenly, Lolimon brought his motorcycle to a stop and peered into a clump of bushes in a deep ditch at the side of the road. Among the bushes was a car wrapped around a tree, the skeletal remains of a deer lay on its hood and through its windshield. The car was a total wreck, a mass of tangled junk with plants growing closely around and inside of it. Lolimon made his way down the culvert, his heart pounding. A closer look into the car and in the immediate vicinity proved that there was no victim around. He concluded that, seeing as it had obviously happened some time ago, the driver had survived. He was completely puzzled by the whole affair. Since his assistance was not needed at the spot, he climbed out of the culvert and back onto his motorcycle. Before long he was in sight of the Hotel Legoith, a rambling Victorian era mansion-made-hotel with an elegant green house in the rear of the property. Driving up the lane and through the car park Lolimon soon parked his motorbike unloaded his suitcase, entered the solid wood front doors and presently stood at the check in, where he was checked in by a pleasant employee. What appeared to be her twin sister took his bag up to his suit at his bidding and after expressing his feeling a bit peckish, was directed by a third identical young woman to the café. Out the café window, Lolimon noted that nearly all the guests were enjoying what appeared to be a poolside brunch. This, however -and as he would soon come to find out after ordering his own brunch of pancakes and coffee-, was far from the case…
OOC: Indeed soon enough, he may lose his appetite….
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