13 November 2010 @ 03:12 am
The Race: Starting Line  
Everyone participating in the race found themselves waking up in a car with their teammate. On the dashboard was a map of England and a sealed envelope. Over the radio came the familiar voice of one Oliver St. Oldcastle.

"Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines." And he sounds oh so smug. "I promised you all a chance to win a prize and this is it! For the next two days, you'll be racing from here to the finish line. I can hear you all asking, 'Oliver! Where is the finish line?'"

He clicked his tongue.

"That's my little secret. Guess you'll have to play the game and find out. Step One: open the envelope."

He paused to allow the racers time to do that.

"Yes, it's a riddle. It simply wouldn't be fun if I came right out and told you, would it? That's the first leg of your journey there. Solve it and you'll be on your way. First one to the finish line gets a prize! Everybody else will be directly responsible for the death of someone you love."

There was another pause, to let that sink in for a moment.

"It wouldn't be the same if the stakes weren't high, would it? And don't say, 'Oh Oliver, you can't do that!' because I can and I will. Oh, and I almost forgot Rule Number One: have fun out there."

The radio clicked off in each car.



[ooc: Feel free to tag here with reactions or whatever. Oliver may or may not respond to questions. The car doors are locked with magic, so no one will be leaving their cars til they're out on the road. For your clarification, here's a map of the route that the race will take, each time the line changes direction being a checkpoint:



This is not the map the characters are receiving. Theirs has no red line on it, it's only a generic road map of England. This map is only so you can see roughly where the characters will be headed.

The riddle in the envelope is this:

Rising out of the unknown
Gallows or temple, no way to be sure
The seeds of fame sown
In the mists of a moor.


The post for the first checkpoint will be up in a couple days, but there may be others between now and then so keep an eye out!]
 
 
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[identity profile] tom-hanniger.livejournal.com on November 14th, 2010 05:13 am (UTC)
"I don't even know who that guy is." Tom answered with a shrug. "For all we know he probably is."

Whatever the case, it only urged Tom to press on the gas.

They spoke English in Scotland. He could probably get a job there for a while and start over. Change his name. Put all this bullshit behind him.
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[identity profile] of-my-tomorrows.livejournal.com on November 14th, 2010 05:23 am (UTC)
Victoria bit her lip. "He was talking on the radio when I woke up - the man who built the house. I didn't hear much of what he said," she explained. "I spoke with him once briefly. Very briefly. Not that that gives me reason to trust him," she added quickly. She turned her head a bit to look out the window; everything looked normal to her, so what had Oliver been talking about? Regardless, it wasn't really enough to ask Tom to turn around.
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