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

Everyone just wants to interact with Jaina :D



Date: Monday August 1st, 2016 ~ Morning



While most of Dunder Mifflin New Castle piled into the Conference Room, a far more sinister scene was occurring just a mile away from the workplace. Rose Peters, our darling secretary, had been quite late to work that day. Doing her best to not let Aidan down, she pushed the speed limit -- and then some. As she was turning around a corner, Rose didn't see the other car until it was too late. Police arrived and declared the Dunder Mifflin receptionist dead on arrival. It seems Lady Luck is merciful to none.

But alas, Rose wasn't the only one who failed to show up for work this day! Fortunately, Sam didn't perish. Earlier that morning, the poor thing perhaps was still a bit under the influence. His wife, you know. His ex-wife. She'd caused a bit of a trouble, and what better way to feel better than to drink? With the alcohol in his system and his rage, he left a rather nasty voicemail for Aidan, quitting his job. He was last seen boarding a train back home to Tennessee.

However, some may have noticed that Moe was a bit chipper this morning! A few minutes before the Conference Room Meeting began, he received a rather discreet phone call. Turns out, he'd won the lottery. Isn't that lucky? Immediately seeing his riches and the ability to pay off some of his colleagues of ill repute, Moe left the office, but not before showing Aidan the middle finger. No one is quite sure whether or not to say he quit or was fired -- I suppose that'll be up for HR to sort out.


Aidan Ferguson

Location: The Conference Room; Dunder Mifflin


Aidan cleared his throat, pacing a bit at the front of the room. Seeing all of his worker bees file in, he set his hands down at the end of the table, leaning forward a bit. His half bald head reflected the light a bit, allowing his workers to almost be able to see themselves in it, like a mirror. However, as Aidan glanced over towards the cameras, he straightened up, settling back into more of a stoic, businessman like stance.

"As I'm sure many of you are aware, we have been infiltrated," Aidan began simply. "These people will be here for the foreseeable future, provided their show isn't canceled. I don't quite understand it myself, but it's reality TV....but a documentary."

Aidan turned to one of the camera man, rolling his eyes at them. He really didn't fancy being on a show with the same audience as the Kardashian sisters, or the Jersey Shore trash. Only respectable, proper television made sense to him. And this? This was anything but that. Had corporate not demanded he comply, Aidan would have thrown them out of the office himself.

"They want us to act like ourselves--and if any of you put so much as a toe out of line, I'll skin you alive myself," Aidan warned, a soft smile on his lips. "Chris, Declan, and Fischer. I'm talking to you. If any of you bastards give me a reason, do not doubt that I won't take advantage of it."

His lips curled a bit into a sinister smile, but another glance at the cameras reminded him to compose himself. Taking a deep breath, Aidan put on a cheery grin, though it failed to be anything but unconvincing. "Of course, I'm talking about metaphorical murder--actual murder is against company policy." He chuckled lightly, before taking a slight step back. He figured they'd have more questions than he'd be able to answer.

"Questions? Anyone except for Chris, Declan, and Fischer, obviously. I know what you prats get up to."


Gwen Westbrook

Location: The Conference Room; Dunder Mifflin


Gwen nodded, taking the notepad from Chris. It was better than trying to focus on the meeting, what with the cameras filming their each and every move. She couldn't care less about how she was perceived -- police stations weren't going to bother with some documentary on TV she'd been forced to take part in. Reading Chris' work while Aidan blathered on, she snickered each time she heard him advocate murder.

Perhaps, when she was finally a detective, she'd get to catch Aidan in the act of killing Chris. It wasn't that farfetched.

Quietly slipping the notepad back over to Chris, she leaned over and whispered her feedback to him. "You spelled all wrong. Two L's." She smirked a bit, before pretending to jot down her own notes on the meeting. Recalling what Aidan had said, Gwen jotted down the following:

Subject AF threatened to skin alive subjects GF, CM, DF. Subject AF joked about murder on several more occasions. She then dated and signed her observation, and folded her hands pleasantly, winking at the cameras. Returning her attention to Aidan, she smiled at him, and received a smile back in return. As odd and creepy as her boss was, she certainly had him wrapped around her thumb.

Now if only that could translate into a raise...
Woot! :) I'm working on an update for a RP I'm GMing, but once that's done I'll be posting in here
On a happier note, I'll be posting an update today! :) Working on it now. Maybe be anywhere from within an hour to within a few hours, as I'm going to the tattoo parlor to get my first tattoo.

Those of you who have extensions -- you know who you are -- please try your hardest not to get "left behind" as we shift gears into the meeting.
You have my interest!
@Sovi3t @PhunkyPhoebe @Ghost Butt have been removed from the RP, due to violation of the posting standards.
@Witch Cat I'm feeling generous, so this'll be your only hint....



Scarleth "Ruby Red" Pevensey


Music filled the training room, as Scarleth threw dagger after dagger at the targets. With each throw, she twirled them a bit, and gradually began to throw in different acrobatics. She did flips, handstands, and even threw in some 360 combat routines. Once she ran out of knives, she switched to her gun, shooting bullet after bullet. She never missed, a dead shot. By the time she ran out of ammunition, even then, Scarleth wasn't done. Doing backflips down the range, she retrieved her knives, only to throw them again, dodging the firing of imaginary throws. Strangely, in the midst of this imagined combat, Scarleth was at her most beautiful. She didn't fit in, herself, among finery and china. That was a façade that she wore, one that made her appear to belong.

Her eyes glanced upwards, hearing the announcement across the ship. Pressing the lightest kiss to her weapon, she reloaded it, as well as retrieving her knives once more. From the communications, Scarleth figured that it was going to be decently cold. Pulling the hood up on her uniform, she put the slight cloth across her face, only keeping her eyes visible. It wasn't going to be a mission that would need her to seduce anyone, and she didn't particularly feel like catching a cold.

Making her way to the bridge, Scarleth listened quietly to Callum's briefings. The lack of information wasn't something that she particularly enjoyed. Her line of trade revolved around understanding the enemy before the enemy had a chance to understand her. It was to kill quickly, to get in and get out. All information would be given to her, allowing her to know the location better than she knew herself.

And here, here she was sent on a suicidal mission with no information. Had emotions not been drilled out of her, turning her into a textbook psychopath, she would have felt a little of the same fear. Instead, Scarleth stared ahead, unwavering. Now wasn't the time to allow herself to feel her emotions. It was time to get to work.

"We need more information than this," Scarleth said simply, her eyes flickering over to Callum. "A small group should investigate prior to launching any sort of attack. Recklessness will only ensure our deaths."
@Witch Cat

Though you do seem to not be as stressed as you were at first about this...
I think he has a little more to do than clean up his mother's corpse....
© 2007-2026
BBCode Cheatsheet