*******************New Storyteller:Guardiankrillin******************
**************Poll: Are we alone?*************
The truth is out there
[ 4 ] 57%
I want to believe
[ 3 ] 42%
******************************************
Ladies and Gentlemen of LoKni, I wish to announce a new online only game!
Encounter will be a paranormal investigation game set in San Fransisco in 1991 and run under the modular NWOD system. All characters will be mortal. Expect somewhat of an X-Files feel. Avilister, please start me a new forum under it's own heading (because it's not in the world of darkness) at your earliest convenience.
As this is a forum based game, I would expect players to be ready to do heavy discussion and investigation with skill rolls, but should not be overly surprised at the once in a while combat. So, lots of roleplay. I will not rule out the players getting themselves into combat when I didn't intend it, so please try to build a realistic character that does not randomly whip a gun out and spray bullets at problems. And remember, this may be NWOD, but you're mortal. We saw in the counterterrorism game how quickly mortals die in WOD combat. I will post subsequent information in separate posts, in case people want to quote things and to break it up a bit.
*******************Character Creation:***************************
I don't have a copy of the NWOD rules in front of me yet, so if you do something retarded I may poo in your shoes.
Your characters must fall into a certain category. You should all know who each other are. You should all have a reason of some kind that you would investigate the paranormal. You should NOT build into your character background either having directly seen something paranormal, or having hard evidence of such, like a photograph of a ghost or a live alien in your closet. You also cannot be part of a government agency of any kind, including the military. You may be a veteran, but recall that the US was in the Gulf during this time, so you should have a reason that your character either didn't reenlist, and wasn't called back up. You can be a veteran if you like, as long as you explain why you are in the continental united states and at liberty to do what you like. Your characters may also not have supernatural powers. Other things to be required or removed as needed later.
One final thing, and feel free to arrange this amongst yourselves. Your characters are social with one another, and spend time with each other at least twice a month. You can do this however you want, you know how much I like sandboxes. Your social group, whatever it is, will include at least one NPC. (so if if it's the just us guys club then it includes one more of us guys). If new players trickle in over time, they should have a way to have been part of your group the whole time. After all, group cooperation will be a very necessary part of the game.
Sorry for putting so much on you for character creation, I just felt it was necessary for this game. I've found in the few times I've done it that including all the characters in at least one point of background helps smooth out the beginning of the game and gets straight to the action.
One very last note. Gameplay starts as soon as two people have character sheets emailed to me and we have our own forum. No need to drag out the start of a game that will take a long time to play anyway.
************************* Ready GO.***************************
Please register your character here. Also start a PC thread for your character, please include as much of your background and current affairs as you can, including a description of your living quarters. I would like for you all to find pictures of your characters and post them. (I like tinypic.com pretty well, photbucket is also good.) If you pick an actor in a movie, try to find as many poses as you can. I have reasons.
that scares metry to find as many poses as you can. I have reasons
That which is not dead can eternal lie and with strange eons even death may die
My Color is Blue
I value Knowledge, logic, and deceit. I love to pursue wisdom but also to manipulate and deceive. At my best, I am brilliant and progressive. At my worst, I am treacherous and cold. My symbol is a water droplet. My enemies are green and red.
My Color is Blue
I value Knowledge, logic, and deceit. I love to pursue wisdom but also to manipulate and deceive. At my best, I am brilliant and progressive. At my worst, I am treacherous and cold. My symbol is a water droplet. My enemies are green and red.
Name: Tavis Camden
Nationality: American/Scottish
Profession: Invester - Bike Racer - Actor - Model
Tavis was born to a Scottish father and American mother in the early 70s. He spent a few years in Scottland but his mother brought him to America when she grew tired of domestic life and returned to acting in daytime tv. Tavis, always an upbeat young child, was always happy to accompany his mother to events and flourished in the attention. His mother did the occasional made for tv movie and while on location for one of these Tavis found his favorite passtime of off-road motorcycle racing. He also was scouted and starred in a few commercials, with his mother's encouragement. In his teens Tavis went to spend some time with his father back in Scottland. His parents were still married and did see each other on occasions (a few holidays each year) but it was mostly out of convience that they did not get divorced (Mr Camden was secretly gay, and Ms Camden was always broke despite good pay from acting). This allowed Tavis to develop his education in a more structured settings and to get into Cambridge and graduate with a Bachelors in Economics. Since returning to the US Tavis picked up again with his mother and also was able to do a few bit parts here and there to get noticed. This has allowed him to help fincance film projects and also to meet the nearly endless stream of young actresses that decorate his arms at myriad social functions.
Tavis and Ms Camden (Mom) at premier of Tavis's lastet film
::OOC I have more pics... and some I picked out just for you Gideon::
Nationality: American/Scottish
Profession: Invester - Bike Racer - Actor - Model
Tavis was born to a Scottish father and American mother in the early 70s. He spent a few years in Scottland but his mother brought him to America when she grew tired of domestic life and returned to acting in daytime tv. Tavis, always an upbeat young child, was always happy to accompany his mother to events and flourished in the attention. His mother did the occasional made for tv movie and while on location for one of these Tavis found his favorite passtime of off-road motorcycle racing. He also was scouted and starred in a few commercials, with his mother's encouragement. In his teens Tavis went to spend some time with his father back in Scottland. His parents were still married and did see each other on occasions (a few holidays each year) but it was mostly out of convience that they did not get divorced (Mr Camden was secretly gay, and Ms Camden was always broke despite good pay from acting). This allowed Tavis to develop his education in a more structured settings and to get into Cambridge and graduate with a Bachelors in Economics. Since returning to the US Tavis picked up again with his mother and also was able to do a few bit parts here and there to get noticed. This has allowed him to help fincance film projects and also to meet the nearly endless stream of young actresses that decorate his arms at myriad social functions.
Tavis and Ms Camden (Mom) at premier of Tavis's lastet film
::OOC I have more pics... and some I picked out just for you Gideon::
That which is not dead can eternal lie and with strange eons even death may die
My Color is Blue
I value Knowledge, logic, and deceit. I love to pursue wisdom but also to manipulate and deceive. At my best, I am brilliant and progressive. At my worst, I am treacherous and cold. My symbol is a water droplet. My enemies are green and red.
My Color is Blue
I value Knowledge, logic, and deceit. I love to pursue wisdom but also to manipulate and deceive. At my best, I am brilliant and progressive. At my worst, I am treacherous and cold. My symbol is a water droplet. My enemies are green and red.
Name: Dr. Logan Pickleberry
Appearance: Often unkempt and intense, Dr. P has a sort of wild-man look that makes other uncomfortable. Brilliant but eccentric, he is able to get away with this look even in professional settings.
Profession: Pickleberry is a civilian doctor and medical researcher, contracted by the military.
Background: I'm Cheyne's doctor. I spend a good deal of my time treating and covering up Gulf War sickness, Agent Orange fallout, etc. Like a medical cleanup guy for the military. My methods are often shady as I lack a certain ethical code (allowing patients to suffer in order to track the progression of the illness, showing favoritism among patients, lying to families, and administering treatments without first testing on animals). Loyalty is maintained on both ends by the secrets we hold on each other (I know what the gov is doing and it knows what I've done in the past...).
more coming soon...
Pic:
Appearance: Often unkempt and intense, Dr. P has a sort of wild-man look that makes other uncomfortable. Brilliant but eccentric, he is able to get away with this look even in professional settings.
Profession: Pickleberry is a civilian doctor and medical researcher, contracted by the military.
Background: I'm Cheyne's doctor. I spend a good deal of my time treating and covering up Gulf War sickness, Agent Orange fallout, etc. Like a medical cleanup guy for the military. My methods are often shady as I lack a certain ethical code (allowing patients to suffer in order to track the progression of the illness, showing favoritism among patients, lying to families, and administering treatments without first testing on animals). Loyalty is maintained on both ends by the secrets we hold on each other (I know what the gov is doing and it knows what I've done in the past...).
more coming soon...
Pic:
Last edited by durden on Wed Apr 02, 2008 10:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Journal for English Composition
Jim Brown
So. Not sure what to write in this. You said you wanted us to talk about ourselves and our lives, so I guess I’ll start from the beginning.
I was born in Atlanta, Georgia in 1928. Back then segregation was still in full swing, and life wasn’t always easy for us because we were poor, but things weren’t all bad. Our family was close, and we always had enough to eat, even through the depression years, because our father had a secure job as a groundskeeper for the one of the wealthy landowners in the area.
When the war started up I was too young to fight. But I knew from the comics I read, and from the radio, that it was a fight that needed to be fought, and one I wanted to help win, and when my older brother Jack signed on, I knew I couldn’t just wait around at home. I went in, lied about my age, and signed up when I was 15 and a half.
The military was different back then. Harder, nothing like what you see today. But then again, so was the world. Wars nowadays aren’t fought in trenches with bayonets, they’re fought in the air. But anyway, I found that despite the challenge and the pain and the horrible things I saw, the military was a good place for me. My brother left after the war. He married his highschool sweetheart, settled down back in Atlanta, and found a position on the estate with our father. He worked that job for the rest of his life, right up to the day he died, just like our father.
I ended up traveling all over the world with the military. I didn’t get back home much, and frankly, I didn’t really like going. In the military, I was treated with more respect, even though the units were still separate back then, and I had something more to do than just work a lawn for some rich white man, like my brother and father did. I suppose back then that I resented them a bit, for being so willing to settle, though now I look back and I suppose I can understand why they did what they did. Especially when I look at my marriage.
But yes, I stayed with the military. I was in Korea, and by the time Veitnam was just starting, I thought about leaving. By then however, I had already spent so much time with the military that I couldn’t really imagine life away from it. So I went. By that time the military was fully integrated, and my rank and experience entitled me to a position of authority. I mention it only because for me, the civil rights movement hit me most when I looked at my unit, and my boys, black and white, fighting side by side, just trying to stay alive. It was a horrible war, but that is one of the gems I was able to take from it.
Anyway. Vietnam was hard. We saw a lot of things we’d rather not have, and when we went home we were treated like villains. It ruined a lot of good men, not just in body, but in mind. But I like to think that as many men as it ruined, it also built a few up. I have a lot of friends that I still keep in touch with from those days, and even a few from back in Korea.
Let’s see. There’s Bill Clayton, a good old boy from Texas. We got along well, and when things were going bad, you could always depend on him to be cool and calm. He has a nice ranch outside of Dallas. His wife died a few years back, but he stays busy with his kids and the animals and such. Or so he tells me when he writes.
There’s Randal Calvin, from up in the Northeast, Main maybe. We still talk on the phone. He was crazy from the day I met him. He ended up being a professor at some fancy East coast university. Married three times, and divorced just as many. Still acts like he was a kid. Fun to be around, but you can only take so much of him before you just need some time to rest.
There’s Captain Reese, who was my CO back in Korea. He went into intelligence after he went civilian, works as a military advisor for the CIA now. He was always a smart man, but he just didn’t relate well to people. Probably why we hit it off. We still go out for drinks every once in a while, since he lives out here.
Probably my best friend from those days is General Eric Reynolds. He was just a kid when we first met back in the Vietnam War, but he’s turned into a fine man, and mentoring him is among the few things that make me proud of my life. We still talk often, but less and less these days, since he’s in the middle of this Iraq business, coordinating ground efforts.
Oh, and I can’t forget Lt. Dan. A good man, and a good officer, but always a bit off. I was afraid he wouldn’t make it through losing his legs, but apparently he managed to make his peace. He’s married to a nice little Vietnamese woman, and I think he owns a shrimping company. He’s invited me to come stay with him at his mansion in Alabama, but I just haven’t made it down there yet. I suppose I should stop putting it off, since I’m not getting any younger.
It’s a shame there aren’t more of my old friends left. A lot of them got sick after the war, a lot of them died, and a lot of them I just lost contact with. A lot of people just tried to forget the war happened at all. Me, I just tried to find some way of fitting in with society again. I stayed in the service after the war, but I decided that I wanted to live my life before it got away from me. I met a good woman, Elise, my now ex-wife, had child, and tried to live out the American dream. But apparently I wasn’t very good at it. When I was still in the military, it distracted me from my family, and Elise always complained about not seeing me. And when they forced me to retire in ’74, I just didn’t know what to do with myself. I lost a lot of jobs, and the economy was bad. I just wasn’t sure what to do, and I suppose I wasn’t exactly right in the head. Elise was more than happy to let me find my way, and she was always patient about the jobs, but I was so frustrated with myself that I ended up ruining our marriage. If I could go back and change something, well, I would go back and slap the shit out of myself for being a damned fool. But what’s done is done.
She raised our boy well. William is married now, and they have a few children. I don’t really see Will much. He resents that I wasn’t there for him, even though that’s the way his mother wanted it. But he’s been bringing the grandkids around more lately. Nice. Guess he’s afraid that I’m going to be punching out soon. Here's a picture of Elise, Will, and his family.
Well, that brings us up to now. I’m not healthy. Maybe all those wars caught up with me, maybe it’s all the drinking and smoking and fatty foods. No one’s really sure what exactly is wrong with me, and those damned V.A. hospitals give about the same quality service as McDonald’s. I live in an assisted living center, ashamed of myself, visited occasionally by a kid that doesn’t like me, grandkids that don’t know me, and the nursing staff. Friends write or call once, maybe twice, a week. I take classes at the college on my GI Bill money, not because I think I’ll do anything with them, but because I don’t want my brain to rot, and I want to get out. And I suppose out of a perverse determination to finish something I should have done years ago, even it’s too late for it to matter. Here's a few pictures of me for posterity. I hope that these pitures fulfill the creativity requirements.
There. Three pages of journal. And since I was “emotionally open,” “sincere,” and “introspective” like you asked, this damned well better get an A, because if I had to write all this whiney crap for your touchy-feely, over-educated, under-experienced, pansy ass for nothing, I will be very tempted to hurt you.
Now, you have a nice spring break, put down your books, and go live a little.
-Jim Brown
Jim Brown
So. Not sure what to write in this. You said you wanted us to talk about ourselves and our lives, so I guess I’ll start from the beginning.
I was born in Atlanta, Georgia in 1928. Back then segregation was still in full swing, and life wasn’t always easy for us because we were poor, but things weren’t all bad. Our family was close, and we always had enough to eat, even through the depression years, because our father had a secure job as a groundskeeper for the one of the wealthy landowners in the area.
When the war started up I was too young to fight. But I knew from the comics I read, and from the radio, that it was a fight that needed to be fought, and one I wanted to help win, and when my older brother Jack signed on, I knew I couldn’t just wait around at home. I went in, lied about my age, and signed up when I was 15 and a half.
The military was different back then. Harder, nothing like what you see today. But then again, so was the world. Wars nowadays aren’t fought in trenches with bayonets, they’re fought in the air. But anyway, I found that despite the challenge and the pain and the horrible things I saw, the military was a good place for me. My brother left after the war. He married his highschool sweetheart, settled down back in Atlanta, and found a position on the estate with our father. He worked that job for the rest of his life, right up to the day he died, just like our father.
I ended up traveling all over the world with the military. I didn’t get back home much, and frankly, I didn’t really like going. In the military, I was treated with more respect, even though the units were still separate back then, and I had something more to do than just work a lawn for some rich white man, like my brother and father did. I suppose back then that I resented them a bit, for being so willing to settle, though now I look back and I suppose I can understand why they did what they did. Especially when I look at my marriage.
But yes, I stayed with the military. I was in Korea, and by the time Veitnam was just starting, I thought about leaving. By then however, I had already spent so much time with the military that I couldn’t really imagine life away from it. So I went. By that time the military was fully integrated, and my rank and experience entitled me to a position of authority. I mention it only because for me, the civil rights movement hit me most when I looked at my unit, and my boys, black and white, fighting side by side, just trying to stay alive. It was a horrible war, but that is one of the gems I was able to take from it.
Anyway. Vietnam was hard. We saw a lot of things we’d rather not have, and when we went home we were treated like villains. It ruined a lot of good men, not just in body, but in mind. But I like to think that as many men as it ruined, it also built a few up. I have a lot of friends that I still keep in touch with from those days, and even a few from back in Korea.
Let’s see. There’s Bill Clayton, a good old boy from Texas. We got along well, and when things were going bad, you could always depend on him to be cool and calm. He has a nice ranch outside of Dallas. His wife died a few years back, but he stays busy with his kids and the animals and such. Or so he tells me when he writes.
There’s Randal Calvin, from up in the Northeast, Main maybe. We still talk on the phone. He was crazy from the day I met him. He ended up being a professor at some fancy East coast university. Married three times, and divorced just as many. Still acts like he was a kid. Fun to be around, but you can only take so much of him before you just need some time to rest.
There’s Captain Reese, who was my CO back in Korea. He went into intelligence after he went civilian, works as a military advisor for the CIA now. He was always a smart man, but he just didn’t relate well to people. Probably why we hit it off. We still go out for drinks every once in a while, since he lives out here.
Probably my best friend from those days is General Eric Reynolds. He was just a kid when we first met back in the Vietnam War, but he’s turned into a fine man, and mentoring him is among the few things that make me proud of my life. We still talk often, but less and less these days, since he’s in the middle of this Iraq business, coordinating ground efforts.
Oh, and I can’t forget Lt. Dan. A good man, and a good officer, but always a bit off. I was afraid he wouldn’t make it through losing his legs, but apparently he managed to make his peace. He’s married to a nice little Vietnamese woman, and I think he owns a shrimping company. He’s invited me to come stay with him at his mansion in Alabama, but I just haven’t made it down there yet. I suppose I should stop putting it off, since I’m not getting any younger.
It’s a shame there aren’t more of my old friends left. A lot of them got sick after the war, a lot of them died, and a lot of them I just lost contact with. A lot of people just tried to forget the war happened at all. Me, I just tried to find some way of fitting in with society again. I stayed in the service after the war, but I decided that I wanted to live my life before it got away from me. I met a good woman, Elise, my now ex-wife, had child, and tried to live out the American dream. But apparently I wasn’t very good at it. When I was still in the military, it distracted me from my family, and Elise always complained about not seeing me. And when they forced me to retire in ’74, I just didn’t know what to do with myself. I lost a lot of jobs, and the economy was bad. I just wasn’t sure what to do, and I suppose I wasn’t exactly right in the head. Elise was more than happy to let me find my way, and she was always patient about the jobs, but I was so frustrated with myself that I ended up ruining our marriage. If I could go back and change something, well, I would go back and slap the shit out of myself for being a damned fool. But what’s done is done.
She raised our boy well. William is married now, and they have a few children. I don’t really see Will much. He resents that I wasn’t there for him, even though that’s the way his mother wanted it. But he’s been bringing the grandkids around more lately. Nice. Guess he’s afraid that I’m going to be punching out soon. Here's a picture of Elise, Will, and his family.
Well, that brings us up to now. I’m not healthy. Maybe all those wars caught up with me, maybe it’s all the drinking and smoking and fatty foods. No one’s really sure what exactly is wrong with me, and those damned V.A. hospitals give about the same quality service as McDonald’s. I live in an assisted living center, ashamed of myself, visited occasionally by a kid that doesn’t like me, grandkids that don’t know me, and the nursing staff. Friends write or call once, maybe twice, a week. I take classes at the college on my GI Bill money, not because I think I’ll do anything with them, but because I don’t want my brain to rot, and I want to get out. And I suppose out of a perverse determination to finish something I should have done years ago, even it’s too late for it to matter. Here's a few pictures of me for posterity. I hope that these pitures fulfill the creativity requirements.
There. Three pages of journal. And since I was “emotionally open,” “sincere,” and “introspective” like you asked, this damned well better get an A, because if I had to write all this whiney crap for your touchy-feely, over-educated, under-experienced, pansy ass for nothing, I will be very tempted to hurt you.
Now, you have a nice spring break, put down your books, and go live a little.
-Jim Brown
Last edited by rydi on Tue Jul 22, 2008 3:08 am, edited 2 times in total.
Threading the Gerbil since 1982
There is a little bit of a plot thread ready for you guys, I'll enhance its enticingness after I'm done with exams. We should probably start at the VA hospital, you're a quart low and need servicing.rydi wrote:i'm really rather happy with everyone's story so far. this looks like one of the better character games i've seen in a while. maybe super powers get in the way.
i plan to start responding to / making plot as soon as i get done w/the character for chris' game, and the character for gurpforge. i really like my character for it too btw. or at least the concept. i'll try and get it ups soon. and chris' character for it looked nice.
Threading the Gerbil since 1982
upon reading activites in the hospital I think a certain someone likely makes extra money selling pics to tabloids....
That which is not dead can eternal lie and with strange eons even death may die
My Color is Blue
I value Knowledge, logic, and deceit. I love to pursue wisdom but also to manipulate and deceive. At my best, I am brilliant and progressive. At my worst, I am treacherous and cold. My symbol is a water droplet. My enemies are green and red.
My Color is Blue
I value Knowledge, logic, and deceit. I love to pursue wisdom but also to manipulate and deceive. At my best, I am brilliant and progressive. At my worst, I am treacherous and cold. My symbol is a water droplet. My enemies are green and red.
-
Guardiankrillin
- Lost Knight
- Posts: 346
- Joined: Tue Apr 01, 2008 5:15 am
- Location: Edmond, Oklahoma
Do you want us to post characters on this thread or as a seperate thread like they were on Reclamation.
Also is training to later be a part of the local law enforcements trainer for their K-9 unit count as being a part of a goverment organization. I was looking at having 1 dot in status City Police, I would still be in recruit training while finishing my characters college degree.
Also is training to later be a part of the local law enforcements trainer for their K-9 unit count as being a part of a goverment organization. I was looking at having 1 dot in status City Police, I would still be in recruit training while finishing my characters college degree.
-
Guardiankrillin
- Lost Knight
- Posts: 346
- Joined: Tue Apr 01, 2008 5:15 am
- Location: Edmond, Oklahoma
I will post a example thread
My characters name is Simon Thatcher age 22 he is an aspiring K-9 Unit Trainer. He is a Star Trek fan and believes space is the final frontier. Simon loves puzzles, Enigmas, and computers when he is not training dogs for his mothers kennel.
Simon is in his Senior year of college, completing his Bachelors Degree in Law with a Minor in Zoology: Animal Behavior. Simon knows Jim Brown from the current English Composition classes at the college that they are both taking. During his early college years Simon took Chemistry classes under our local Chemistry professor.
My characters name is Simon Thatcher age 22 he is an aspiring K-9 Unit Trainer. He is a Star Trek fan and believes space is the final frontier. Simon loves puzzles, Enigmas, and computers when he is not training dogs for his mothers kennel.
Simon is in his Senior year of college, completing his Bachelors Degree in Law with a Minor in Zoology: Animal Behavior. Simon knows Jim Brown from the current English Composition classes at the college that they are both taking. During his early college years Simon took Chemistry classes under our local Chemistry professor.
Last edited by Guardiankrillin on Sun May 18, 2008 1:56 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
Guardiankrillin
- Lost Knight
- Posts: 346
- Joined: Tue Apr 01, 2008 5:15 am
- Location: Edmond, Oklahoma
-
Guardiankrillin
- Lost Knight
- Posts: 346
- Joined: Tue Apr 01, 2008 5:15 am
- Location: Edmond, Oklahoma
Alpha Phoenix wrote:Hey, I am definitely interested in this game!
I am a disillusioned chemistry professor who had a promising career as a research scientist and an instructor of biochemistry at an elite institution of higher learning. I was on my way of acquiring tenure, when individuals within the administration became uneasy due to my consistent declarations of the existence of paranormal phenomena in the world (yes, I am an absent-minded professor). They did a more thorough background check on me (other than the obligatory research into my C.V., my stellar academic record, and outstanding recommendations, that were used to land me into my position at the university), and unearthed the true impetus for my fervent belief in the paranormal: when I was 16-yrs-old, my father mysteriously disappeared from our residence in the middle of the night. I filed a report to the police claiming it was alien abduction, but everyone attributed my story to the wild imaginings of a traumatized child who had likely just witnessed his father brutally kidnapped from his home. After this experience, I began to have other encounters with the paranormal: I would see what I would believe to be spirits. All of my confessions of these sightings eventually resulted in me winding up in a mental institution. It was a short stint, where I was being treated for a host of psychiatric problems that ranged from delusions to paranoid schizophrenia. In the end, after a year (during which I was on my best behavior and spoke nothing of ghosts or aliens), I was discharged with a clean bill of health and continued my education. I was 19-yrs-old at this time. I went to a prestigious undergraduate university, where I met a promising young student who aspired to be a physician (a.k.a. Chris' character
). We became lifelong friends, and kept in contact after we both went into our respective graduate fields. We took an organic chemistry course together, which is how we met. I earned my Ph.D. in biochemistry, and landed the position at the university that I teach at. The administration used this information, the until-now completely buried records of my one-year stint in a mental institute to discredit me. Through innuendo and defaming, they harangued me out of the university. I was left on my own, jobless, and homeless. Now, I am on a quest to vindicate myself; I have a burning desire to find out what happened to my father all those many years, and I have an equally burning desire to show the world that paranormal activity *does* exist. I am thinking of contacting my physician friend from college to help me. This quest has become my sole impetus...my life...
Rusty wrote:Well, remember that you can't have personally 'seen' anything. You had a correct and proven diagnosis of simple partial seizures, and are on medication for it. your belief that your father was abducted can come from any line of reasoning you choose, except that you saw anything. You may have heard something, or seen a light, or had a dream, but actually witnessing the supernatural is out at this moment.
Alpha Phoenix wrote:Awesome. Okay, my reasoning for believing it was an alien abduction is completely circumstantial: 1. I was a believer to begin with (just because of my beliefs, no experience beforehand), and 2. I could not rationalize any other reason: there were no signs whatsoever of forced entry into the house (the police investigated and came up with no broken/jimmyed locks, no broken windows, no signs whatsoever)...and there was no sign of struggle except for a large pool of blood on my parents' bed (my mom was out on a business trip at the time)...and they positively IDed the blood as my father's through leukocyte DNA matching with records of his own DNA. I, on the other hand, slept through the whole thing and did not see anything...nor dreamed anything. But, c'mon, what else *could* it be but aliens?!