@Lady Amalthea@Pundii You two are like a married couple sometimes. :P
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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Edwina Fairfax
Location: The People's Bank of Gotham
Interacting With: @Din Nyt, Cheetah, Batman
Interacting With: @Din Nyt, Cheetah, Batman
"Girl's got to try," Edwina shrugged, wiggling as best as she could to get out of the Bat's clutches, but she failed. His grip on her wasn't something that she could break off, and her mind flickered back to the training they'd received at the Sanctuary. If only I worked more on my physical fitness... She chuckled weakly to herself, hoping that the Bat wouldn't throw them all in Arkham. It'd be a death sentence, if he did that. "Well, it's complicated, you see..." Edwina began, only to be cut off by the Cheetah. She nodded, though realized it was mostly for nothing. There was no way that the Bat would be able to see her face in this darkness.
However, one word struck Edwina. Her research in optics had been funded by a division of Wayne Corp, run by... "Bruce Bloody Wayne?!" Edwina exclaimed, her eyes wide. "You funded my research! Fuck, this is awkward....Hehe...." She nearly apologized again, but found herself set down, the blood rushing away from her head and back to her other limbs that needed it.
"At least we're alive," Edwina said bitterly, sucking most of the lights into her hands. Two orbs, like high powdered flashlights, appeared. It masked the group mostly from the outside, from any cops, and ensured that if they were jumped, Edwina could simply unleash her miniature suns.
"We need to get someplace safe..." Edwina advised, practically stating the obvious. "As odd as it sounds, Wayne mansion could be ideal. He'll be out most of the night chasing down my uncle, and the cops won't go there. I bet there's an empty room or two we could squat in."
Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway
Location: Riley's Car ---> Chasing Cynthia
"They just make messes all of the time," Tuesday agreed, glancing out the window as the car headed towards the picnic. It almost surprised her, how little Grimm had changed. In her head, it would've evolved into something more than it was, but it hardly looked different than the day she left. The same shops were in business, and the new ones hardly looked any different than the old ones. People walked up and down the street, all of them wearing their Small Town attitudes on their sleeves.
She blushed slightly at Riley's offer. She swallowed thickly, already knowing that she couldn't take it. She'd rather fall than have to lean on her sister for support. "I'll be fine, Rye," Tuesday responded, her eyes flickering down to her phone. She did know of a few ways that she could increase her income, but it would be risking her freedom as well. Assuming she survived the deadly reunion.
"Cyn, what's the matter?" Tuesday asked, jolting a bit when the blonde began pounding against the window. Her eyes widened, her hands shaking slightly as she witnessed what, to her, was the start of an episode. As soon as Cynthia fled the car, Tuesday glanced up at Riley, and unbuckled herself. She followed Cynthia out as well, her knees aching from the impact. She'd definitely need to practice at that for next time. "Cynthia, sweetie, talk to....."
She stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth open with horror at the body. "That's....That's that jock kid...." Tuesday's mind raced, attempting to place a name to the body, only to remain entirely befuddled. Pulling on her own hair, Tuesday tried her best to stay calm, staring at the blood in front of her. She eyed Cynthia, and it snapped her out of it. "Cynthia, sweetheart, I've got this," Tuesday promised, walking over to the girl and attempting to pry her fists away from the windows. "No one's going to fuck with you while I'm around. This asshole'll be caught by the end of the day, I bet, and put in jail. They're going to hate jail, the fucktard, but they deserve it. Okay? It's all going to be fine."
Édouard Riviere
Location: On the Road
"Mon dieu!" Édouard exclaimed, seeing the jerky and the water. It was infinitely better than the dented cans of mush he'd been living off of for ages, though he couldn't help but give Amelia a bit of a slant eye. There was no reason for her to share the food with him. He certainly wouldn't have wanted to share with her. For a mere moment, he considered chucking the car battery at her, and taking the supplies... But if he was being honest with himself, that'd take a lot of effort. He'd have to keep on walking, he wouldn't have Svetlana to follow him around and kiss the ground he walked on, and he couldn't use Amelia as a minion to gather supplies. She'd have to stay, for now.
However, a dopey grin appeared on his face the instant he realized Svetlana and Amelia were going to let him drive. He cracked his knuckles, bounced up and down a bit on his feet, and tilted his head in both directions. Mentally ready to go, Édouard climbed into the front seat, only to bash his knee--the injured leg's one, mind you--against the door. "Merde! Merde! Brûle en l’enfer!" Rubbing his knee, Édouard slammed the door shut, and got the car running.
Slamming his foot on the gas pedal, the car lurched forward, and Édouard moved over to the right side of the road. Despite it being the end of the world, old habits die hard. In France, he'd learned to drive on the right side, only drifting over to the left in order to give his tutor a heart attack.
Most of his tutors ended up having heart attacks, funnily enough.
"Où est-ce que nous allons?" Édouard asked, pushing the gas pedal harder and harder. He almost got a giddy joy out of seeing obstacles on the road, taking it as a challenge of his prowess as a driver. Of course, he wasn't entirely stupid. As much as he wanted to go as fast as the car could, he knew it just wouldn't do. The main issue? He was reading his speed in KHM, rather than MPH. He frowned to himself, noticing that the speedometer appeared to be off. It told him that he was going 30, but to him, it felt more about 40.
"Ça ne marche pas!" Édouard whined, whacking at the speedometer with his free hand, keeping the other on the wheel. First his thermometer didn't work, and now this? In one day, he had lost faith in any American measurement device. It must've been a side effect of their uncultured upbringing amongst an obesity epidemic.
Jack Hudson
Location: Rec Center
"No can do," Jack replied, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "Job description. Boyfriends gotta tease." But of course, he complied with her request, and merely watched her in silence. Most, he figured, would've been bored with ballet, finding it to be useless. But to him, it was the most valuable thing in the world. The little things, art and games, those were the things that kept them human. Otherwise, they weren't any different from those dead sons of bitches.
In the midst of Tatiana's routine, a girl wheeled herself into the Rec Center. Jack tensed up slightly, still adjusting to seeing all of the new faces. However, he'd never met someone in a wheelchair who caused too much trouble. He relaxed slightly at her friendly greeting, glancing over at Tatiana briefly, still absorbed in her own routine. "Nah, you're not an intrudah...Unless, 'course, you went intru-dah-window...." He grinned widely, waiting for her to crack up at his pun.
He held Tatiana close to him with his left hand, extending his right hand for the amputee. His warm, boyish smile on his face, the same one he had used with the victims he'd find and rescue as an officer. "Name's Jack Hudson. And this here is Tatiana Kovo," he introduced, butchering his girlfriend's last name. "Pleasah to meet you."
Cecily Ashworth
Location: Justice Memorial; Room 2319 ---> Front Entrance
Cecily accepted the card, pondering for a moment where in the world someone would purchase a burner phone. She was used to using the same phone for two years, until Verizon let her know that she could upgrade. And before that, her parents had handled her phone related bills for her, up until she entered college. As she became more and more exposed to the world of crime that was Justice, she couldn't help but feel more and more naive. While she may analyze crime on a daily basis, she truly knew almost nothing about it. What she knew in theory, she lacked in practical knowledge.
"Do you get those at...Wal-Mart?" Cecily asked slowly, attempting to not appear stupid, as best as she could. She shook her head slightly. "Don't answer that. I'll figure it out. Can't be harder than multivariable calculus."
Blushing slightly as he clapped her on the back, Cecily ensured she had all of her things, and she headed downstairs with Gregory. Her heart kept on pounding as she glanced around, falling back into the slight habit she had as a kid. She used to look up at the ceilings, searching for places where people could hide. It was a way to pass time, what with all of the traveling and courtroom meetings her parents had put her through. She smiled weakly as she didn't seem to see anyone, and sat down on the bench next to Gregory, her mind already imagining a drive-by shooting.
Somedays, it didn't pay to be the pessimist.
"I'll try my best," Cecily replied simply, forcing a smile. "Though if I was to follow that, then I shouldn't trust you, so I shouldn't trust what you said, and thus, I should trust people...But I get your point."
She glanced down at her phone, and held down on the power button, shutting it off. Knowing herself, she'd forget and send a text to Riley. It'd be better to keep the thing turned off, and had it not been expensive and have a Hufflepuff case on it, she would have chucked the thing. Putting it back in her pocket, Cecily looked out towards the road, expecting Caesar to show up on some motorcycle of doom, constructed out of bones and leaving behind a trail of fire.
"You're going to get cancer like that," Cecily teased, attempting to keep her mind off of everything. She'd never smoked before, and to be honest, she was slightly curious. As much as she knew about the damage it did, she also wanted to comprehend why people enjoyed it. To her, it only made them look more and more like Smaug. "Does it taste like smoke, that thing?" She bit her lip slightly, attempting to focus on anything, anything but the dead body a few floors above them, and the maniac blonde running around the city who tried to kill her.
I'll be getting in a post later tonight. :)
Sherlock Holmes
The Morgue ---> Madam Fae's Bar & Diner
Sherlock had found her way into Mystvale proper, hardly noticing the strange looks she always attracted. She looked like she belonged in a Space Western film, rather than the drizzling Washington streets. The mundanes always gave the feminine seeming man a quizzical expression, while her fellow refugees seemed to default to a state of either cheerfulness or rage. Sherlock's nature was almost paradoxical: endearing to some, outrageous to others. None of the decent restaurants, in her opinion, had opened yet. It was far too early. With a bit of a sigh, Sherlock resigned herself to having to fetch sustenance at Madam Fae's Bar & Diner.
It seemed that this would require...talking...to people. Frowning a bit, Sherlock motioned for Watson to follow (no one was around) and entered the eatery. Her lips curled slightly, taking in all of the inhabitants. Her mind began its usual train of deductions, thoughts and observations appearing around each individual in a haze. "It's the Cataclysm," Sherlock said curtly, interjecting herself into the conversation. She took a seat almost mechanically at the counter, strumming her fingers, twitching with the need for something about seven percent stronger than a mere cup of tea.
"I deduce that it was either Dorothy or Alice this time," Sherlock mused. "Same as all the rests. Nothing different. I'll take coffee. Black, two sugars."
She smiled thinly, perhaps a bit more than pleased to have received the opportunity to show off. And while Sherlock could tell that the Godmother was hardly in the best of moods, she didn't see anything wrong with her behavior. Everyone else in the town was a moron, someone who would need things explained slowly to them. For example, how Sherlock was positive either Alice or Dorothy had gone missing that night. How Sherlock was positive it was the same cause of old. And, of course, how she knew that nothing had changed that time.
But if there was one day Sherlock waited for with baited breath, it was the day that the imbeciles would give her something interesting to solve, or even better, actually realize that she wasn't a man at all. No one in Mystvale had the faintest idea, a joke that brought amusement to her even then, the corners of her mouth twitching with amusement.
Harlianne Hook
The Hatter's Bookshop
Harlianne glanced up from perhaps her fourth bottle of rum, and slowly listened to what the Hatter had to say. At his suggestion to sober up, she replied merely by tipping her head back, allowing more of the sweet, delicious nectar that was rum to pour down into her mouth! She licked her lips slightly, setting the bottle down. The room was spinning slightly, and for a moment, she could've sworn there were two Hatters in front of her.
"I wore me tea hook," Harlianne offered. "'S polite as I get, Hatter." As if to accent her point, she belched, reaching for another bottle of rum, only for her hook to fall short. Remembering that the Hatter had said something about a mug, Harlianne stumbled to her feet, entirely and utterly drunk.
It wasn't the first time she'd showed up to the Hatter's to drink, however.
"And I am as sober as ye can be," Harlianne protested, demonstrating her ability to walk in a straight line by walking diagonally across the shop, stumbling and crashing into things as she went. Using her hook and the table for balance, Harlianne managed to straighten up. Surprisingly enough, while drunk, she would've walked fine on a ship. It was stable, dry land that tended to throw her off.
The state of emergency caused her to raise a slight eyebrow. As far as she was concerned, such things should only be called if crocodiles had begun to invade the town. Anything else was a non issue. "What's got their bloody knickers all twisted up this time, aye?" Harlianne asked, leaning against a wall now. The bookshop continued to spin, and for a brief moment, she wondered if this was what it was like in Wonderland all of the time. "Yer rum is in the bag, Hatter."
Aravis Tarkheena
Lucy's Apartment
Aravis grinned in relief, seeing Lucy entirely unscathed. With the disappearances going on, she wouldn't have been surprised if her friend had decided to do something foolish, and then vanish alongside Dorothy. Phone call or not, a determined Lucy was a dangerous Lucy. Having lost far too much in her life, Aravis couldn't bear the idea of parting with her dear friend as well. Not that she was one to express these feelings, of course. Her pride interfered with it, preventing her from voicing her true feelings, that perhaps she loved Lucy as more than just a friend.
"Perhaps the tax collector," Aravis mused, a smile on her lips. "I insist that you come and stay with me, until we've figured out how to stop these disappearances, Lu. Two swordswoman is better than one." She bent down slightly, petting yet another one of Lucy's many cats, when she heard the firm rapping on the door -- and the more than evident accent.
Eyeing the cat, Aravis chuckled slightly. Lucy may as well have been running a cat hotel, with all of the felines running around the place, getting into paints and creating their own works of art. The scrapes caught her attention as well, and for a moment, she couldn't help but worry that Hansel had been attacked as well, similar to Dorothy. "Did you try flirting again, Hansel?" Aravis asked coyly, her voice tinged with amusement.
She glanced at the ruby red slippers on the table, sighing slightly. Another person in Mystvale had vanished, stolen away by some demonic pest. Praying to Aslan each morning hadn't helped anything, and for a few weeks, Aravis nearly gave up on trying it. Merlin had told them all that magic wouldn't work in this world. Aslan wouldn't be able to hear them.
"Have the mundane police begun their investigation?" Aravis asked, helping Lucy set up the tea things. The girl was so dreadfully British, and her tastes had largely become adopted by those in Narnia, and in Archenland. It was a drastic difference to the spices and oil of her home country, causing some to label her cooking as exotic. That was, of course, when she decided to cook. She usually ate with Lucy.
In
Freedom In The Stars: Deathbound [A Suicide Squad inspired sci-fi adventure] (Closed down)
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10 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Scarleth "Ruby Red" Pevensey
Rather than the rest of the crew quietly gathering at the terminal, the sounds of gunfire echoed throughout the facility. Scarleth's nostrils flared, her eyes burning with rage and anger. The cracking of the communicator furthered it, with Scarleth letting out a deep and controlled sigh. Jesse's exaggerated finger to his lip certainly didn't help to improve her mood.
Fuck it. There's no more point in trying to stay silent. The crew had the discipline of a rabid dog, as far as she was concerned. She frowned deeply.
"I honestly doubt they'd let them know if we died," Scarleth observed, raising an eyebrow at Jesse. "They certainly aren't going to tell the public that they freed us and allowed us to die, and they won't say we've been killed. They'll say nothing, and they'll continue to assume we're imprisoned." Rolling her eyes slightly at his jump, Scarleth softly pulled her own weapon, as relaxed as humanly possible. It didn't help to be stressed. "You are rather adept at stating the obvious," Scarleth coolly observed.
Her eyes fell on the corpse for a moment. She made a mental note of it, a soft smirk on her face. "I believe this proves your theory incorrect, One Arm," she commented. The manner of death for Reaver, a quieter member of the crew, was hardly similar to the deaths of the guards. While those had been bloodless, this one was anything but. She slid her weapon away quietly, before returning to scan through the logs Jesse had brought up. She hardly trusted One Arm to have caught everything of importance, but a tool was a tool.
"Aside from not knowing the difference between its and it's, the scientists had little idea what they were dealing with," Scarleth surmised, mostly to aid Callum and Max. "An unknown artifact in a neighboring cave appears to have been the centerpiece of their research. Have either of you found such an artifact?"
Reaver's corpse on the ground hardly unnerved her. She had expected that someone would have to die, in order to knock some sense into the others. This situation, as much as she wished to be entirely bored with it, did have some points of interest to it. The deaths of the guards and the artifacts on the terminal. And judging that Reaver's bomb had been detonated, she deduced either in-fighting, paranoia, or something more dark had occurred just moments before.
@Pundii You've hit day 6 on your post counter, hun. Need to get a post in soon.
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