Young Writers Society

The year is 1984.

Your character is in New York, looking through the archives of the central New York public library. Something has brought them to this place, where they must deal with the translation of the Dewey decimal system, which is true torture most adventurers have never experienced. Perhaps they come here seeking the solution to a civil war, a cure for a diseased alien plant, or just a really good chili recipe.

No matter their reason for being there, they hear screaming turn around and see - Bill Murrary? The secondary shriek comes from a librarian in nightgown who is floating and chasing down the balding comedian and his team. You don't have enough time to notice exactly what is going on before being knocked to the ground by another spirit who is just as hell bent on torturing some mortal souls.

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Whether or not they realize it, your character has been transported into the movie realm - stuck in the ultimate spooky classic - Ghostbusters. They are now faced with having to play their way through the story, collecting accomplices and enemies along the way, hunting ghosts, and trying to get out alive. It's your choice which direction they go, but be sure to be careful of anything spooks, gremlins, or ghouls out on the street.

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The link to my new storybook and roleplay server: Jack's Roadhouse

The flier had said that the library was the best place to find information, but he was beginning to doubt it.

He hadn't, of course, known exactly what he was looking for, but he had assumed that it would become clear the longer he stood among the shelves. Sebastian wasn't exactly sure what happened in a library. His master had never sent him to one of them. She thought they were useful, to some degree, but lacked the same amount of resources her own stores of information had. He was inclined to agree - if only he could find one of her labs.

He was currently standing in a forgotten island in a forgotten corner of the library, flipping through the pages of a book on Egyptian gods in the hopes that it would provide him some kind of answer. He could just barely see the other aisle beside his own through the crack in between books he had made when withdrawing the one in hands.

Then he heard the scream.

Screams were something he was very used to, but this scream sounded different. He furrowed his brow and peeked between the crack in the books. There was a librarian wearing a nightgown, chasing a group of strangely dressed men. He went to push more books aside - not willing to move aisles to see what was going on - only to be knocked down by someone who didn't look quite right.

He stared up at the transparent, oddly-colored figure.

"You're not human," he guessed, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

Ezra took the steps to the lower level of the library, cursing for wasting her time. She was hoping the library would yield some useful information for her case, but she was unlucky in her pursuits. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard a scream and immediately reached for her gun as she sped back up the stairs.

She was confronted with an image she'd later describe as unreal. She'd come face-to-face with the freaking ghostbusters... And a very angry looking ectoplasmic librarian.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she lost consciousness.

Harper's gloved fingers ran over the titles on the shelf just above her eye level. Where is it? She resisted the urge to bit her lip. Now was not the time to ruin her lovely black lipstick. She'd used the last of it this morning, and she needed it to last until she could get around to picking up a replacement.

She was in the occult section. Or, she thought she was. This library was a nightmare to navigate. The books in front of her did appear to be on-topic, though. Not the exact topic she was looking for, but close enough to know she could be on track. Again, this place was terrible.

A scream shattered her thoughts.

Several things happened at once. First, Harper spotted the nightgown-clad ghost. Her jow hadn't the time to drop before someone, multiple someone's, one closer than the others, all vaguely familiar. Then she was on the ground.

Her wrist, which had caught her fall, but not well, hurt and she might have screamed. She shifted the weight of her backpack, which now felt heavier than it had before, so she could flip to face whatever knocked her over. Bad move.

Silver had only just entered the library, its heavy wooden bookcases crowding the space. The smell of parchment and ink filled the air. His nose twitched. The placard on the wall gleamed with a new sheen. The year was 1670.

He was on his boat until suddenly he was hit with a giant wave of water and knocked out.When he awoke he was surrounded by bookcases,although he was used to books these were not his.So, he stood up then heard screaming nearby "a laddie?" he ran to the screams.

SIlver was merely there to research the strange happenings around the town.He would see a girl with dark red hair and red-splatted grey clothing and the spirit that knocked her over "hey! Mate!" the spirit would turn to see a old gun pointed at its head as silver pulled the trigger and the ghost dissapeared "Laddie are ye okay?" he would say with a serious but comforting look on his face.

Once the figure had moved on to the other people in the library, Sebastian rose to his feet and studied them from afar. They certainly weren't human, but they also weren't anything he had ever really seen before.

They weren't like him, at least.

Unsure of what exactly he was supposed to - or could do - in a situation like this, he wandered throughout the floor of the library until he discovered a human laying unconscious. She was strangely dressed by his standards, but her clothes made sense with this world.

But while he was slightly worried about her, he was more intrigued by the weapon she had at her side. Careful not to wake her, he reached down and grabbed the weapon - holding it in his hands and studying it with a childlike but dedicated fascination.

Ezras eyes fluttered, feeling a disturbance. Sitting up, she felt the absence of a particluar item. This revelation shot her up on her feet, her eyes fully opening. She nearly knocks into a man with short black hair and deep brown eyes. In his hands he holds her Colt Python, its royal blue barrel casually resting in his palm.

"Excuse me!" Ezra quickly took the revolver from the guy and reholstered it. "That is a very expensive gun. Not to mention very dangerous." The gun had been given to her by her grandfather, who had purchased it when he was her age. The gun was in near-mint condition, but Pa had made her promise to keep it with her always. Ezra would never willingly let someone else fire her weapon. She gave a hard look to the dark and mysterious man, but only found curiousity. "Ezra Dexter, PI. Pleased to meet you. And you are...?"

He frowned when the weapon was taken from his hands, and confusion flickered across his face. Why was she so upset by him holding her weapon? He clearly wasn't going to use it, and the idea of him using it didn't seem the problem. Maybe it was the possession of the gun that made it a problem. That made sense, to some extent. People felt protective of their possessions, and weapons did qualify as a kind of them.

"Sebastian," he said. He glanced around - a lost expression on his face. The strange figure was nowhere to be found at the moment, but he was sure that they must have come through here.

Harper almost screamed again, but the ghost went right past her. It vanished. She blinked at the spot, unaware of the dumb grin on her face until it turned to a grimace as she peeled herself off the ground. In her fall, she'd apparently taken a few books with her. As a result, there, on the ground right next to where her head had been, was a big, heavy copy of 'Souls and Those Who Collect Them'. She picked it up, her grin returning, and abruptly tuned into the conversation happening a few rows down. She rounded the shelves and came face to face with the rather odd pair, "Hey, uh, you guys saw that too, right?" she said, still grinning. She didn't think she was hallucinating, but anything was possible.

Ezra noticed a flicker of confusion cross his face, as well as hurt. She patted the gun. "What's going on?"

Now, she noticed a few more people lingering around the area- the epicenter if strangeness, you could say.

"Was that... Bill Murray? 1980s Ghostbusters... And a... A ghost. A real, dead ghost." She looked around for confirmation, meeting eyes with a redhead, then flicking behind her to see a tall, lanky guy with stark white hair, then finally coming to rest on the person closest to her; Sebastian. "Somebody, pinch me."

"Ghostbusters," he repeated. The word sounded and felt unfamiliar as it rolled off of his tongue. Ghosts were slightly more familiar, but even those were something he wasn't entirely sure he understood. Frowning again, he glanced between the two in an attempt to understand the context of the conversation.

He paused.

Another question arose.

"Who's Bill Mu-ray?" he asked, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side.

As soon as Harper made the connection, she let out a squeal of delight and skipped up to Ghostbusters, sticking out her hand for the nearest one to shake, "Hi, I'm Harper, big fan, been watching your movie since I was little, haven't seen it in a little while, still, big fan," she said all in a rush, her grin getting wider with every word.

Carter had dashed back into the theater to grab Paul's cane, not realizing that the magician had followed behind him. They had been searching through the rows of seats for the green, glittery cane when the incantation started behind the screen. And before they knew it they were swept away, standing by a bookcase, and looking out onto a scene of chaos.

In this distance, there were the characters they had just watched on the screen moments ago and a new group of strangers to negotiate terms with.
"Look out," Paul shouted, taking his cane with him to the ground. Carter didn't hear the warning quite in time and collided with a ghastly spirit that dove down from the ceiling.
He rolled over, helping Paul up while jokingly saying, "Thanks for the warning, baby."

---

The spirit looked over the small crowd, wondering how it forgot those summoned might be communicating with the characters it hijacked. It quickly ran through the script once more, consuming every single detail about the characters, and then maneuvered to answer "Harper".

The nearest Ghostbuster to this victim visitor was Spengler, with the wild, snake hair and scientific sass. The spirit wasn't confident enough to maneuver with Venkman - not quite yet.

It possessed the form for a moment, interrupting the running reel of the plot to say, "Ah, hello. You seem to be an interesting human specimen?"

Harper thought for a moment. Human specimen, he had said. It had said? Her smile faltered. She should have been more suspicious from the get-go, really. Clair always said so.

Her grin returned full force. There was no indication that this thing wasn't friendly, just that it was stilted. Unaware of the customs of humans. Spirits were like that sometimes, demons were almost always like that. Judging too quickly was what usually caused trouble, in Harper's opinion. "Nice to meet you!" she chirped.

He furrowed his brow.

His earlier question hadn't been answered, and he was only gaining more. He took a step forward, surveying the strange man in front of him with a look of familiarity flickering across an otherwise confused face.

He titled his head ever so slightly to the side.

"Are you Bill Mu-ray?" he asked. Then there was a pause. He mulled over the situation a little more, took another step towards the man with the wild hair, and gave him a tentative poke in the arm. He wasn't entirely sure what he had expected to feel, but it made him feel like he was making some kind of progress.