Avatar of Morose

Status

Recent Statuses

7 yrs ago
My power grows exponentially each day as we come nearer to Halloween.
7 likes

Most Recent Posts

@SunsetRoses Under more mental skills, you'll want to add knowledge of forensics and knowledge of chemistry. Assuming she lives in a house, she got Number 7 Sealth Road. Add those things in and move her over to the CS tab, and join us in the IC whenever you are ready. :)
@Whimsley I'm going to say no to knowing gender. In real life, people mess up the gender of each other's pets all the time, so I think it'd be more realistic to not know. And it reminds me of the pain and struggle to get a female eevee.


Tryke Lockley

Location: MoR


Tryke's eyes swept across the MoR, once again focusing in on the blood. It continued to puzzle her to no end, the acts the T-1 was performing thus far. There had to be some sort of endgame to it, but for the life of her, Tryke couldn't figure it out. It terrified her how nice the T-1 was acting, how caring and considering she was. It wasn't the norm, it wasn't logical, it wasn't the way things were.

It was a tried and true equation being proven false. It was science proving to be a lie. It was magic and myth coming to life. The very antithesis of everything Tryke believed in had been presented to her. With experiments, new processes and discoveries were born, yet the rules of logic always applied. A world without logic was her hell--and to her, this was only the beginning.

"So how bad is the damage and how long do you think it will take to get everything back in running order?" Craig asked, snapping Tryke out of her thoughts.

She laughed a bit, glancing at the incoming reports herself. Every minute, more arrived. Some of them she suspected were repairs people had been too lazy to file, and now with the onslaught of urgent ones, decided to put them in as well. Her crew was stretched thin as it was, with each available hand working constantly towards fixing the issues.

"It might be easier to tell you what isn't broken," Tryke admitted with a shrug. "I've only got a finite crew, and the reports keep on coming in. We'd have to work constantly for four days at this rate to fix a majority of the problems, prioritizing the vital functions of the tower...."

Her thoughts drifted off. There were plenty of talents on the tower, and with a bit of a crash course, perhaps they could be trained to do some of the more simple repairs. It wasn't GTC protocol by any means, but it would speed up the process. She could have them do simple repairs, such as those on level twenty. She couldn't care less whether or not all of the rec functions were able to perform.

"If I had more people, we could expedite the process," Tryke continued. "As it is, we're lucky there's only minor damage to the power supply and generators. The damage only gets pretty serious around level 26."

Her eyes darted towards where the T-1's blood had been. The girl was incredibly lucky that the infirmary hadn't taken a major hit, and that by some miracle, the main elevator was working. She suspected that the cables would need to be looked at, due to the stress, they likely would break at any moment. Returning her gaze towards Craig, Tryke shifted awkwardly.

"We're bringing up the replacement front portal now," Tryke added, her team having sent a brief confirmation message up to her. "That, at least, is a relatively quick fix."
Jack Hudson

Location: DMV in Carrollton, Georgia


Jack woke up quickly, a cold sweat on his forehead. He had dreamed of a distress call like any other he might have received in Chicago. A woman's husband was getting abusive, and he went with his partner to respond. They had kicked down the door, and once inside, the husband had been armed. The dream grew blurrier and blurrier by the moment, but he felt his chest, expecting a bullet.

There was nothing there.

He let out a soft breath, allowing himself to calm down. He had been in Georgia for a while, though he didn't know the exact time. Last night, he had stumbled upon what looked like a DMV office, painted white with an orange roof. Hardly anyone seemed to be around, and it was as good a place to sleep as any. Gone were the days when he and Sutton could take turns keeping watch. Jack only had himself to rely on. He had slipped inside the DMV as quietly as possible. After doing a quick sweep of the place (too quick for his liking), he had let his exhaustion get to him, and collapsed after barricading himself in the tiny bathroom.

He had used his rope and a few clove hitches to close off the door as best as he could. He then went over the entire area, covering up any windows and such he found with his tarp, in order to keep anyone from seeing inside. Then, with the lid down on the toilet seat, he had slept sitting up, gun in one hand, knife in the other. If all went well, no walkers would be able to come inside, as if anyone was going to be killing Jack Hudson, it was going to be Jack Hudson.

Not some dead pisser, that's for sure.

Listening carefully, Jack couldn't help but be wary. Anything, or anyone, could have come inside the building while he slept. He had spotted what might have been crawl space earlier when he first entered, and suspected that someone might have been hiding down there. Of course, his memory of the previous day was so hazy, due to his sleep deprivation and desperate need to get access to some water.

Distantly, Jack heard crash and a thud, and he couldn't help but swear. It was either some undead sonovabitch or some poor bastard. He gathered his tarp up from the window and quickly folded it into a sack, putting his supplies inside. Keeping his gun and knife on him, he removed the rope from the door, and tied them into almost straps for the sack. Slinging it over his shoulders nearly like a backpack, he opened the bathroom door softly, and went in search of the noise. His knife had slipped into his pocket, and he held his gun at the ready, moving silently from area to area. He made his way towards the back of the DMV, he quickly spotted the source of the noise.

There was some girl flailing on the ground with a walker.

Good morning to you too, sunshine, Jack thought quietly to himself, not wanting to alert the walker. Or potentially any of its friends. Walking towards it, Jack kicked at the walker, hoping to send it the walker back, against one of the walls if possible.

"You got any other friends beyond this pissah?" Jack asked, glancing over at the girl.

He quickly switched his gun for his knife, and stabbed the walker in its brain. He pulled his hunting knife free and wiped it against the wall, prodding the walker with his foot, as if to ensure that he really had killed it. Chuckling a bit, he did a quick inspection of the rest of the room, before offering a hand to the girl.

"I'm Jack," he offered with a small smile.
There are three types of people.... XD
This is sooooo interesting!

The town reminds me a lot of where I live currently as well.
Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway

Location: Inside the Gym


Tuesday shrugged a bit, after hugging her sister back. Truthfully, she knew that if she had called Riley, she would have gotten her a ticket. She probably would have managed to set Tuesday up with a better job than being a temp, making copies, and having her background check constantly reveal her criminal record. Her life didn't have to be the way it was.

She merely didn't want to get handouts from her sister. If either of the twins owed each other, Tuesday was the one in debt. There was no way that she wanted to owe her sister further, especially after how awful she had been all those years ago in high school.

"I don't need you to buy things for me," Tuesday laughed, rolling her eyes. "I was able to afford a flight out here, after all."

Avoiding Riley's eyes, Tuesday dearly hoped her sister was still in the dark about the drug abuse. Most people who knew about it assumed that Tuesday had gotten clean in prison, but truthfully, she never had easier access to drugs than when she was behind bars. It was almost like a buffet of narcotics, only one favor to a guard away.

"Actually, we have had three murders in the last twenty-four hours. So here comes the standard set of questions for everyone arriving late to the party. When did you get to town, where were you from 4p.m. yesterday until now, and did you have access to your sisters prom dress?" Marc asked, his arms crossed.

Tuesday's happy outward appearance vanished. Subconsciously, she started to scratch her wrist, the inner panic setting in. Sure, she hadn't seen Marc in ages, not since the odd occasion he dropped in to visit her, and attempted to get her clean. That wasn't what alarmed her, however.

"I...I...," Tuesday stuttered, her eyes impossibly wide. She scratched at her wrist more and more, her breathing a bit uneven. It was all too similar, all too fresh. Six years since she had been arrested, and her reoccurring nightmare continued to be cops, being questioned, being arrested, being dragged back to prison.

She might have been released, but jail never left her.

Closing her eyes tightly, flashbacks of her arrest came back to her. The questions, so plain and so simple, yet so damning. The photographs, the hand-cuffs, the well intentioned public defenders who handled her case initially. She remembered the clang of the gavel as she was sentenced to two years, and her co-defendant only received community service.

"I'm not answering questions unless I have a lawyer here," Tuesday finally said, her voice uneven. "I...I have rights."

Of course she was aware how it all must have looked, that she clearly must have seemed guilty, what with needing a lawyer. She knew that. In her head, she was screaming at herself to just answer the questions, but she couldn't. Her entire body felt numb, and she was hardly aware of how irritated her wrist became, as she continued to scratch at it in terror.

She simply couldn't handle it. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Tuesday wasn't able to answer Marc, to let him know that yesterday she had been at work in Los Angeles, she spent the entire day traveling, and only had just arrived in town. She couldn't tell him that she hadn't had access to her sister's dress, and that she hadn't had the faintest idea where it would be in the first place, that both of their parents had disowned them and she hadn't been back in Grimm in ten years.

She just couldn't.
@Pirouette Thank you, dear! :)

The mysterious woman seems to be popular, so I'll post for her as well as the rest of the gang shortly. Massive cold has shifted into the headache phase (life is so fun! :P )


@Lady Amalthea Thank you! :) I'll get a post up tonight or tomorrow, will need to read the last few pages to get myself mentally oriented.
© 2007-2026
BBCode Cheatsheet