@Witch Cat Ahhh! :) *rubs hands together* I suppose I'll have to add her to the list of NPC characters....
Meet Mrs. Hudson!
Meet Mrs. Hudson!
Morose Member
✨Krakoan Prince✨
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7 yrs ago
My power grows exponentially each day as we come nearer to Halloween.
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Jack Hudson
Location: Building F
Jack lifted his own armpit and took a whiff. Staggering back slightly, he mimed choking on his own stench. In his grace, however, he actually did a bit more than stagger backwards -- he tripped over himself, narrowly catching himself from landing on the floor. Chuckling awkwardly, Jack sheepishly glanced up at Tatiana. "I, uh, I meant to do that."
He watched her go into the bathroom, his stomach clenching with nervousness still. It had been ages since they'd been able to walk into a house that they hadn't cleared themselves, one that was guaranteed to be safe.
"Clean clothes?!" Jack exclaimed, as if they had just won the lottery. Perhaps a bit too eagerly, he rushed over there, his hand still bandaged from the slight accident earlier that day. However, part of him felt a bit guilty. He didn't need to shower, and he knew that Tatiana would relish getting to feel clean. He shook his head, his tongue poking out slightly from his grin.
"Ladies fihst," Jack explained, nodding for her to go inside. "It's only propah." He was a grown man, after all. He'd been through puberty, along with the phase almost each teenage boy went through, when they simply ignored their own stench. He could wait for Tatiana to finish up with the shower, and then, he'd get himself clean. "And aftah, how about we play some Monopoly?"
Édouard Riviere
Location: Some Road in Arnco Mills, Georgia
"Svetlana..." Édouard mused, his hands folded behind his head. Shutting his eyes for a moment, Édouard took advantage of the moment. His new chauffeur wasn't up to his usual standards, that was for sure, but at least he saw his odds of survival as going up. With his cutlass and Svetlana's ugly bangs, the two of them could do anything.
Well, Svetlana could do anything, and Édouard could relax. He'd finally have his lifestyle back. All he had to do was find some alcohol and everything would be perfect. Of course, after a few drinks, Svetlana wouldn't be as hard on the eyes anymore as well. It had been ages since he had some quality sexe. The bangs would have to go before that could happen, of course.
"ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION!" Édouard screamed, watching as the car drifted into the shoulder, hitting an abandoned vehicle in front of them. Covering his eyes with his hands, he peeked through them every now and then, his heart pounding as the car tumbled into the ditch. The next thing he knew, he was upside down, immobilized.
"J'ai...la...paralysie..." Édouard croaked, hot sticky tears flowing. No matter what he did, his leg wouldn't budge, trapped by the door. Attempting to pull himself out, his hand comes away, covered in the vicious red liquid. "Mon sang!" Édouard cried, attempting to find his cutlass, in order to cut himself out. He'd seen people amputate their own legs before in films, in order to escape from perilous situations. It'd have to work here, no?
"Svetlana...Je suis mort!" Édouard admonished, still reaching for his cutlass. It was all he could do to not faint, watching his blood drain quickly, and his leg pinned. The adrenaline could only keep him going for so long. His fingers were twitching, but he wasn't making any progress at all. His efforts were likely futile, just like the rest of his life.
"Tu as besoin d'une....d'une nouvelle coupe," Édouard murmured, his eyelids fluttering a bit. "C'est très grave."
Jade Cornish
Location: Town Center
Interacting With: Darren Andrews @Pundii
Interacting With: Darren Andrews @Pundii
Jade gave Darren a bit of a death glare. Had people not been dying in waves from illogical causes, she would have arrested him then and there. Instead, she huffed a bit, wishing desperately that she had a drink. The day wasn't over yet, and already, she felt like it'd been an eternity. Jade hardly would have been shocked if her hair had all turned grey.
"After this shit is all over, you're going to get well acquainted with these," Jade warned, raising her handcuffs. "For now, you need to tell us how to kick Satan's ass."
Crossing her arms, Jade leaned back and waited for Darren's answer. He may not have been FBI, but at least he seemed to know what was going on. She may not have been enamored with most of the people in Altsoba, but they didn't deserve to be slaughtered by some deity. Hell, a few minutes ago, Jade had been an atheist herself. She always imagined that she'd be killed with a bullet, not by some supernatural force.
The news of the seals caused her to grimace a bit. Sixty six seals between them and more mayhem? It didn't seem like much. However, she doubted that there was a physical cage for them to go to, and that reinforcing it with bullet proof glass couldn't do much.
"Fucking hell," Jade cursed, feeling the trembles around them. Earthquakes weren't altogether uncommon in Washington, but now, she was prepared for it to be anything. It could've been Barney the Purple Dinosaur rising from the grave in order to bring down fire upon them. "Tell me that wasn't something else to worry about," Jade snapped, her patience wearing thin.
This was so above her pay grade.
Howard Brighton
Location: Forgotten Relics - The Shopping District
Interacting With: Joel Schroeder @hagroden
Interacting With: Joel Schroeder @hagroden
Howard glanced over at Joel, noticing that he seemed to have a bit of trouble. Frowning, he clapped him on the back. "Feeling alright, old chap?" he inquired, fetching a bottle of water for the professor. He hardly ever let customers consume food or drink in the store, but for such a well known professor, he could easily make an exception. It wouldn't do to have Dr. Joel Schroeder faint on his floor. He didn't have the insurance for that.
Having attended to his guest, Howard retreated into the backroom, fetching the beloved Book of the Damned. Nothing in his collection was more prized than this. The legend told that a nun, possessed with evil spirits, managed to tame them in order to create this book. It was supposed to know how to break any curse, any spell, and stop any foe -- if you believed in that sort of thing, of course.
"You cannot fathom the trouble I had attaining this..." Howard murmured, offering Joel a pair of gloves for handling the ancient tome with. "Its previous owner didn't understand the jewel they had....But then again, no one ever does."
He set the book down gently on the counter, locking the front door of his shop. They didn't need to be disturbed with the petty wiles of some freaked out citizens. Recalling the knife he found earlier, Howard retrieved it, setting it down on the counter next to the book. With a cruel smirk of fascination on his face, he examined it slowly.
"Have you ever seen a more finely crafted blade, old chap? Someone left it in here earlier this day..."
Millicent paused for a bit, pondering. Sure, Scotland had been rather fun--it was her home. But with all the political chaos, it hadn't been that great anymore. One year, it was whether or not to remain in the UK. The next, whether or not to remain in the EU. She'd gotten a bit sick of the constant division, to be frank.
"It was nice," Millicent responded with a smile. "I do miss some of the lads I was friends with, and being able to say mony a mickle maks a muckle without confused faces."
She chuckled a bit, leaning up against the edge of the small pool. Truthfully, she didn't feel like leaving just yet. It perhaps was the most beautiful spot on the island--why rush to leave it? The entire point of them taking the boat out there had been for adventure.
Here it was.
Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway
Location: The Hotel
For a moment, Tuesday the drug addict vanished. Instead, timid Chloe Ridgeway had returned. Her eyes widened at Cynthia's simple phrase, reminding her of an essay she had written for AP English Literature and Composition. One of the principle turns of phrase in Moby-Dick, how the narrator says "Call me Ishmael" rather than saying "I am Ishmael." In the essay, she'd explored the simple connotations of that phrase, how it served to further exemplify the way others dictated Ishmael's life and moves.
But that wasn't what struck her as important. It was the meaning of the name itself: a name used for outcasts. She bit her lip, her mind pondering the words stars and camera. She doubted that Cynthia had meant anything to do with Hollywood, no, it had to be something else....
"Ishmael, the narrator of Moby-Dick," Tuesday explained, glancing up at Riley. "You know who's doing this, Cynthia?"
Looking down again, Tuesday felt a bit of an urge to cry. Here she was, stuck at a wall, on the gap of some sort of understanding. She was still the high school overachiever, pushed by her parents to excel in order to receive their love and praise. Pulling on her own hair, Tuesday continued to ponder those words. Stars. Camera. Stars. Camera....Popularity?
"This has to do with popularity somehow?" Tuesday blurted. "A social outcast, and...people who were popular, since they'd be photographed a lot like movie stars?"
And in an instant, Chloe Ridgeway vanished. It was Tuesday again, and she laughed a bit, tossing her head back. "I mean, the fuck do I know...This shit's just crazy."
@Lady Amalthea If he's had another to drink, perhaps he'll poke himself? :P
Edwina Fairfax & The Joker
Location: Gotham
Interacting With: @Din Nyt, Cheetah Woman
Interacting With: @Din Nyt, Cheetah Woman
The Joker snickered to himself, uncorking the bottle with ease. Rather than champagne flowing from the bottle, a sickly sticky red liquid flowed, splashing onto the carpet of the car. Edwina's eyes widened with horror, while the Joker merely continued to giggle, offering the bottle towards the Cheetah. "Today's drink is on my old friend, Commissioner Gordon!"
Edwina gulped, moving her feet as to avoid tangling with the pile of blood. There was a reason that she hadn't visited her uncle in years -- the majority of that reason being his insanity. "You're sick," Edwina murmured, frowning at him.
"I can assure you, I have a perfect bill of health!" the Joker jeered, grinning at the trio. "Come, come, Edwina...I'm just so tickled you've decided to join the family business after all!"
"It's a one time thing," Eddie muttered, the false images she'd created for Nyt, Cheetah, and herself vanishing. The lighting in the car flickered a bit, stopping her uncle's laughter. His eyes open and curious, he tilted his head, waving his finger around, before tapping Edwina's chin.
"So that's why Amanda Waller wants you dead!" he surmised. "You're all....gifted!"
Ouch, seems like Rose got the worst result.
Oh well rest in peace!
Yup. I brainstorm hundreds of options and use a random number generator to determine what happened. Office Memos use that technique, and'll also be used for things like whether or not your meeting with a client went well :)
Sorry! Had to dash, went to the tattoo parlor. Writing the post now :)
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