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Author Topic: He's an Enigma - M lf F  (Read 616 times)

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Offline LrrrTopic starter

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He's an Enigma - M lf F
« on: May 29, 2017, 11:08:39 am »
Most of the role plays I do come from request threads of other writers here on E, but occasionally I'll toss out an idea or three that have been banging around inside my head causing brain damage.  This is one of those occasions.

Below is the set up for the plot.  Keep in mind that I'm a very flexible partner as you'll already know if you've written with me before.  Don't like something in the description?  No problem.  We can change it to something that gives you goosebumps.  YC is going to have to work to find out much about Kurt (MC).  And that's the basic point of interest in this RP.  What is it that makes him so private about himself?  Something YC should run from at all costs?  Or something he's dealing with and reluctant to dump on anyone else?  He's a mystery all right - but just what sort of mystery YC hasn't a clue.

And yeah, this is a pretty long write up for a plot bunny.  I think I may have a male and female plot bunny instead of two females, and you know how bunnies are.  Besides - I like to write and I love detail.  As compensation for your time and attention though, if you get all the way through this there's a prize waiting for you at the end!  No peeking - you have to read through this and not just skip to the bottom!

She'd lived on her family's farm since she was born.  Mom and Dad and their little girl - although she wasn't so little anymore.  It was hard work, but then, there was little enough to attract her attention in the town of Everly, Iowa, population 615.  She'd liked school and had always been one of the smart kids.  As high school rolled around, she blossomed into the class beauty with a lovely figure and delicate features that attracted the boys like bees to a flower.  Sometimes the attention got tiresome, but she handled it all - dating several guys but never getting serious with any of them.

A year after graduation her mom had died from cancer - a slow painful death that left her emotionally drained and facing the prospect of doing all the chores with two sets of hands instead of three.  But there was nothing to do except move ahead and so she and her father did ... until the day three years later when dad didn't return from the fields for dinner.  Dark now with evening having set in, she slogged through the pouring rain and mud trying to cover all of the few hundred acres they owned since she didn't know where he'd been working that day.  Exhausted and her throat hoarse from calling for him, she was about to turn back when a dark, bulky shadow loomed at the edge of her field of view.  Rushing as best she could in the muddy plowed furrows, she finally fell to her knees at the sight of her father's body beneath the rear tire of the tractor.  He'd been dead at least six hours the coroner said, and she imagined how horrible his end had been as he lay in the dirt knowing there was no point in calling out for help.

They'd buried him two days later, and barely an hour after the funeral a well-dressed man appeared at the farmhouse door.  He was soft spoken as he offered his condolences, but became all business when he announced that she had twenty-four hours to gather her personal effects and vacate the premises.  Farm hands would be arriving and they'd be living in the house ... her house ... the house she'd lived in all her life.  The explanation was brief.  Her father had mortgaged the farm - everything - in the hopes of having a few good years to pay off all the debts.  The land, the buildings, the machinery, the livestock, hell, even this year's crop had been used to secure loans.  Bitter and angry, she left the next day with her clothes and a few photos, having nothing else to keep from the only life she'd ever known.

She didn't drink, at least not much, so it was a surprise to some of the patrons when she appeared in one of the town bars and nursed a shot of whiskey late that afternoon.  The few dollars she had in her pocket bought a second, and then a third drink which finally numbed her feelings to the point where she didn't feel like bursting into tears.  A boy from her high school class sat down at her small table and began a conversation to which she was barely listening.  He'd been one of the guys who got what he wanted through deception and manipulation, not intelligence or honesty.  When she went to the ladies room, a small packet of white powder went into her drink as he glanced around to ensure nobody had seen.  Ten minutes later, she was unable to keep her head up nor walk, and he prepared to take her home - ostensibly to make sure she was safe and could sleep off the alcohol.

Kurt had moved to Everly with his parents just before the start of his freshman year in high school.  He'd always been quiet, although beneath the calm exterior there was a great deal of intelligence and a well developed sense of right and wrong.  The girls thought him handsome although he had thought about his own appearance very little.  Tall and heavily built, he'd been asked repeatedly to participate in sports, especially football, but had politely refused.  He'd never attended any social events nor even dated a girl.  After graduation, he disappeared without a word to anyone, even his parents.  A couple of years later, they, too, moved on from Everly to parts unknown leaving their tiny, dilapidated home abandoned.  They'd tried to sell it, but had no takers so it was available to anyone willing to pay the modest real estate back taxes.

Three months ago, Kurt had quietly reappeared and paid those taxes.  The roof and exterior of the house had been repaired, although nobody in town could seem to remember seeing any workers do the job.  Each day, Kurt left in the morning on his motorcycle only to return around 7 pm each evening.  This happened seven days a week although it didn't seem to draw much attention from his neighbors.  The only contact he had with them was his weekly stop at the grocery store, and even then conversation was limited to "Hi." and the words necessary to settle his bill.

It was odd that he'd been in that particular bar on that particular evening given he rarely visited any bar on any evening.  But there he was, sitting in a dark back corner quietly observing the rest of the crowd.  He didn't know her habits, so had no reason to be surprised that she was there.  But when she left the table for a few minutes, he was surprised to see her companion add something to her glass.  It didn't take a genius to know what was happening, but still he hesitated, not wanting to meddle in other people's business.  When the guy said he'd take her home though, he had to act.

His fingers encircled the wrist and gripped it like a band of steel, eliciting a yelp from the bastard who'd spiked her drink.  "Try that again and you'll end up face down in a ditch."  His voice was menacing and his face like chiseled granite as the asshole backed away, gingerly rubbing the wrist that now had bright red marks where Kurt's fingers had left deep impressions.  Kurt knew who she was, but didn't know where she lived or anything about her.  Helping her out of the bar, he took her to the police station which was on the same block as the tavern - the only downtown block in Everly.

The deputy only knew that she'd been evicted and was fairly sure she had no family in the area, so the two of them got her in a cell and as comfortable as they could.  Kurt declined to make a statement, only saying that he wanted to be sure she was safe for the night.  Then he left without further discussion.

Made it through, eh?  Well, your prize is the satisfaction of a job well done.  Well done, you!  Now send me a PM saying you can't live without doing this RP with me.  Or a PM saying I'm out of my mind.  Whichever works for you.   :-)