Seras Quest (Hellsing)
- Thread starter SoothingCoffee
- Start date
AZATHOTHoth
༼ つ ☀️_☀️ ༽つ
[x] Runaway from home.
MysteriousOldGuy
MOG is a good shorthand, as well.
[X] Leave the closet and call the police.
Damn, wish I'd have gotten here earlier.
'Charge' was what set Seras apart from most kids. She had that instinctive bloodlust, the inner will to survive, the gumption to straight up stick a knife in somebody with a gun, even if it did end up getting her shot.
And now......
She hid in a closet.
Seras, I am disappoint.
Damn, wish I'd have gotten here earlier.
'Charge' was what set Seras apart from most kids. She had that instinctive bloodlust, the inner will to survive, the gumption to straight up stick a knife in somebody with a gun, even if it did end up getting her shot.
And now......
She hid in a closet.
Seras, I am disappoint.
DON'T SCARY
Hope is the road to disappointment....
I'm for one is happy that she hid in the closet because its make shit very interesting and new now. And I personally hate rehashing canon.
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- Location
- England
[x] Runaway from home.
SoothingCoffee
Umumumu
- Location
- The Library
Her father's a cop. She could call them by herself.
SoothingCoffee
Umumumu
- Location
- The Library
Vote tally:
##### 3.21
[X] Runaway from home.
No. of votes: 7
Daecl
ebolasos
Sinsystems
query
Kelirapc
AZATHOTHoth
Verminlord1
[X] Leave the closet and call the police.
No. of votes: 14
Chiperninerm
Devran
Faceless Goon
Dutch
RandomLurker
PlatypusofFail
Ethereal Vitali
UberJJK
rippleuser344
Christyking1980
Charon
Larekko12
MysteriousOldGuy
veekie
The 'sensible' action wins by a landslide. Voting will be closed in 2 hours.
##### 3.21
[X] Runaway from home.
No. of votes: 7
Daecl
ebolasos
Sinsystems
query
Kelirapc
AZATHOTHoth
Verminlord1
[X] Leave the closet and call the police.
No. of votes: 14
Chiperninerm
Devran
Faceless Goon
Dutch
RandomLurker
PlatypusofFail
Ethereal Vitali
UberJJK
rippleuser344
Christyking1980
Charon
Larekko12
MysteriousOldGuy
veekie
The 'sensible' action wins by a landslide. Voting will be closed in 2 hours.
SoothingCoffee
Umumumu
- Location
- The Library
Goddamit, Triple Post. And probably be quadruple post when I'm done spitting out words. Also, Vote's locked.
- Location
- Somewhere
Last edited:
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Dang, wanted to vote, but eh, I'll live.
SoothingCoffee
Umumumu
- Location
- The Library
Hurray, no Quadruple Post!
-x-
You steeled yourself and held your breath as you stood from your safe spot. Taking a deep breath, you reached toward the closet's door, pushing them open, and the hinges smoothly obeyed like good little doggies. And you felt bile raising up to your throat as you saw the bloodied face of your mom.
Her eyes gone, illegally replaced with a pair of bullets; blood liquid dribbled from the corners, creating a horrifying picture with her gaping mouth. You were glad that at least she was spared of that. You choked out a sob as fresh tears escaped your stinging eyes. "Mommy?" You felt the words came from your lips as you stepped closer. "M-mommy?"
You knew that in the back of your head, she was dead. You're a no stranger to death. Uncle Martin, Dad's best friend died last year, shot by the local gang for being caught as a snitch. As you closed to her dead body, you felt the bile rose again, and this time, added with the sickening smell wafting in the room, you couldn't keep it in.
You throw yourself to the side as you felt the bile knocking at the door, sobbing as your hands fell to the ground, and let the lunch you had earlier escape, splashing against the hardwood floor, and staining your blue shirt. You felt dizzy, and as you tilted your head to the side, staring at the face of your mother, you couldn't help but to turn away and throw another what remained in your stomach onto the ground.
Hand clenching, anger and disgust muddled your mind. Anger for those men because they ruined a supposedly perfect day, and disgust at yourself because you couldn't do anything when you actually could do anything. You cursed yourself for being a coward, and you cursed yourself for even believing such thing as God. You felt another bile coming up, and you let them through without trying to keep it down.
Closing your eyes, teeth gritting you slowly climbed up to your feet. You remembered what Dad told you when such situation such as this were to happen. You stared at your mom's still face, before wrenching it to the side, and immediately stared at the blank eyes of your dad. You gritted your teeth, and it took you a moment to realize the drumming of your heart.
Numbly, almost carelessly, you made your way to the small table under the black telephone. Hands trembling, you picked up the handle, and pushed the numbers. "101." You remembered your dad said, and you bit your lips as you saw your father's body out of the corner of your eyes, before returning back to the phone.
There was a beep or two before a lazy voice, almost bored, droned. "Hello, this is London Police--"
"Help." Your weak tiny voice cut him off.
You heard something falling from the phone's background. "Hello?" The same voice repeated, and whatever hint of previous tones were gone. "What's wrong?"
"H-help." You repeated, a tremble on your voice as you tried to speak, "M-mom's dead, D-dad's dead, they-they--"
"Calm down there," the voice cut her off. "Tell me where you are, and we'll sent some good guys to your house, okay?"
Though you knew it was futile, you nodded anyway, before telling your home address.
Thirty minutes later spent with pressing your back against the wall, trying not to cry, you heards the sirens of police cars nearing and skidding to a halt in front of your houses. Two minutes later, a group of men garbed in black uniform kicked the door open, stared at the dead corpse of your mom and dad for moment--you swore you heard one of them retch-- before they spotted you, and one of the men picked you up outside.
As you stared blankly at the man, his cooing words passing from your right ear, and to your left ear, you noticed Red Jacket lying on the pavement ground, an additional eye added on his forehead. And as you felt your back hit the soft leather of the police car's back seat, you felt a tiny feeling of satisfaction.
-x-
You didn't know what happened next. It all went a blur. You heard policemen trying to talk to you, trying to cheer you up--to no degree of success-- and then you were sitting on a room. Two men talking at each other, one of them you recognized as a friend of your father, while the other the captain of the police force. They shook hands, and you found yourself sitting at the back of a car, the rumbling sound of the car lulling yourself to sleep.
When you woke up, you found yourself staring at the dark ceiling. A sound of footsteps made you tilt your head to the side, staring at the tall familiar man drabbed in suit; a sad smile on his face. "Good evening, Seras." He greeted, before crouching next to you. You were sleeping on a couch, you later found out.
"Do you remember me?"
You blinked, before shaking your head.
He sighed. "I see." a lull of silence followed as his eyes shifted to the ground, before he finally said, "I'm a friend of your father, Seras. A good friend in fact, and you could call me Marco Sterling." He shook his head sadly. "I used to work for him, you know?" he then sighed once more, and stood up. "But that's neither here or now," he said, a strained smile on his face as he turned his head to you. "I've signed the papers already. Welcome to Goodswood Orphanage, Seras. You should rest now."
You did.
The next day you woke up, you were in the same place as you were last night. Mr. Marco was already awake, sitting on an armchair in front of you, eating a plate of sandwiches, of which he gave you after you woke up. He explained a few things about things that you couldn't bother to understand. Next thing you knew, you were changing into another clothes, and sitting ontop of your small cot in a room of other cots.
There was a footlocker under your own coat, filled with necessary stuffs Mr. Marco deemed as necessary and took from your house. He told you to take a rest for the morning as you'll spent the afternoon with a therapist that Mr. Marco had booked the moment he signed the papers.
You...
[] Rest.
[] Go out. And, dunno, do something.
[] Write-in
---xxx----
Needless to say, I could veto that write-in when it gets ridiculous, OOC, and stuffs.
Perk Added!
Heavily Traumatized: It's like being traumatized, but worse!
Orphan: You're a orphan, Seras. You get nothing from this other than a reminder that your parents are now dead.
-x-
You steeled yourself and held your breath as you stood from your safe spot. Taking a deep breath, you reached toward the closet's door, pushing them open, and the hinges smoothly obeyed like good little doggies. And you felt bile raising up to your throat as you saw the bloodied face of your mom.
Her eyes gone, illegally replaced with a pair of bullets; blood liquid dribbled from the corners, creating a horrifying picture with her gaping mouth. You were glad that at least she was spared of that. You choked out a sob as fresh tears escaped your stinging eyes. "Mommy?" You felt the words came from your lips as you stepped closer. "M-mommy?"
You knew that in the back of your head, she was dead. You're a no stranger to death. Uncle Martin, Dad's best friend died last year, shot by the local gang for being caught as a snitch. As you closed to her dead body, you felt the bile rose again, and this time, added with the sickening smell wafting in the room, you couldn't keep it in.
You throw yourself to the side as you felt the bile knocking at the door, sobbing as your hands fell to the ground, and let the lunch you had earlier escape, splashing against the hardwood floor, and staining your blue shirt. You felt dizzy, and as you tilted your head to the side, staring at the face of your mother, you couldn't help but to turn away and throw another what remained in your stomach onto the ground.
Hand clenching, anger and disgust muddled your mind. Anger for those men because they ruined a supposedly perfect day, and disgust at yourself because you couldn't do anything when you actually could do anything. You cursed yourself for being a coward, and you cursed yourself for even believing such thing as God. You felt another bile coming up, and you let them through without trying to keep it down.
Closing your eyes, teeth gritting you slowly climbed up to your feet. You remembered what Dad told you when such situation such as this were to happen. You stared at your mom's still face, before wrenching it to the side, and immediately stared at the blank eyes of your dad. You gritted your teeth, and it took you a moment to realize the drumming of your heart.
Numbly, almost carelessly, you made your way to the small table under the black telephone. Hands trembling, you picked up the handle, and pushed the numbers. "101." You remembered your dad said, and you bit your lips as you saw your father's body out of the corner of your eyes, before returning back to the phone.
There was a beep or two before a lazy voice, almost bored, droned. "Hello, this is London Police--"
"Help." Your weak tiny voice cut him off.
You heard something falling from the phone's background. "Hello?" The same voice repeated, and whatever hint of previous tones were gone. "What's wrong?"
"H-help." You repeated, a tremble on your voice as you tried to speak, "M-mom's dead, D-dad's dead, they-they--"
"Calm down there," the voice cut her off. "Tell me where you are, and we'll sent some good guys to your house, okay?"
Though you knew it was futile, you nodded anyway, before telling your home address.
Thirty minutes later spent with pressing your back against the wall, trying not to cry, you heards the sirens of police cars nearing and skidding to a halt in front of your houses. Two minutes later, a group of men garbed in black uniform kicked the door open, stared at the dead corpse of your mom and dad for moment--you swore you heard one of them retch-- before they spotted you, and one of the men picked you up outside.
As you stared blankly at the man, his cooing words passing from your right ear, and to your left ear, you noticed Red Jacket lying on the pavement ground, an additional eye added on his forehead. And as you felt your back hit the soft leather of the police car's back seat, you felt a tiny feeling of satisfaction.
-x-
You didn't know what happened next. It all went a blur. You heard policemen trying to talk to you, trying to cheer you up--to no degree of success-- and then you were sitting on a room. Two men talking at each other, one of them you recognized as a friend of your father, while the other the captain of the police force. They shook hands, and you found yourself sitting at the back of a car, the rumbling sound of the car lulling yourself to sleep.
When you woke up, you found yourself staring at the dark ceiling. A sound of footsteps made you tilt your head to the side, staring at the tall familiar man drabbed in suit; a sad smile on his face. "Good evening, Seras." He greeted, before crouching next to you. You were sleeping on a couch, you later found out.
"Do you remember me?"
You blinked, before shaking your head.
He sighed. "I see." a lull of silence followed as his eyes shifted to the ground, before he finally said, "I'm a friend of your father, Seras. A good friend in fact, and you could call me Marco Sterling." He shook his head sadly. "I used to work for him, you know?" he then sighed once more, and stood up. "But that's neither here or now," he said, a strained smile on his face as he turned his head to you. "I've signed the papers already. Welcome to Goodswood Orphanage, Seras. You should rest now."
You did.
The next day you woke up, you were in the same place as you were last night. Mr. Marco was already awake, sitting on an armchair in front of you, eating a plate of sandwiches, of which he gave you after you woke up. He explained a few things about things that you couldn't bother to understand. Next thing you knew, you were changing into another clothes, and sitting ontop of your small cot in a room of other cots.
There was a footlocker under your own coat, filled with necessary stuffs Mr. Marco deemed as necessary and took from your house. He told you to take a rest for the morning as you'll spent the afternoon with a therapist that Mr. Marco had booked the moment he signed the papers.
You...
[] Rest.
[] Go out. And, dunno, do something.
[] Write-in
---xxx----
Needless to say, I could veto that write-in when it gets ridiculous, OOC, and stuffs.
Perk Added!
Heavily Traumatized: It's like being traumatized, but worse!
Orphan: You're a orphan, Seras. You get nothing from this other than a reminder that your parents are now dead.
Last edited:
[X] Go out. And, dunno, do something.
AZATHOTHoth
༼ つ ☀️_☀️ ༽つ
[X] Go out. And, dunno, do something.
MysteriousOldGuy
MOG is a good shorthand, as well.
[X] Rest.
No point in doing anything right now.
Anything we do is going to remind us of our dead parents, and we'll have a breakdown.
No point in doing anything right now.
Anything we do is going to remind us of our dead parents, and we'll have a breakdown.
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SoothingCoffee
Umumumu
- Location
- The Library
Either tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.
[X] Look through the footlocker.
Can't believe I overlooked that.
I mean Batman lost his parents and look where that got him.
Plus we hate God so -like we're are even more fucked up then Batman.
Can't believe I overlooked that.
This is good right?
I mean Batman lost his parents and look where that got him.
Plus we hate God so -like we're are even more fucked up then Batman.
FoxOnPie
Into the Dojyaaniverse
- Location
- Napkin store
Batman was filthy rich, we're filthy poor.
DON'T SCARY
Hope is the road to disappointment....
[X] Go out. And, dunno, do something.
I won't allow us to emulate batman of all people end of discussion. And a ten year old girl wearing a trench coat is pretty stupid and ugly as hell.
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