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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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10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Millicent shook her head. When her parents got angry, the Scottish brogue came out in full force. It was the same with Millicent, her accent having muted from her time in Australia, but returning with a vengeance in those screaming matches. She didn't want to force Alice to hear confusing screams that vaguely sounded like English, not just yet. "I'm good, thanks," Millicent replied politely, stretching her arms a bit as she said so.
She winced slightly, realizing her words might have seemed rude. "You don't want to see an angry Scot...It's more disturbing than a kilt," Millicent joked, tugging on her hair awkwardly. She couldn't help but feel a bit naive and embarrassed around Alice, hardly understanding science herself. Literature and history were her areas of expertise, and most of what she knew about science came from Bill Nye and Neil DeGrasse Tyson. For all she knew, the lake had boiled and frothed like that because the devil was shaking his chains in anger.
"Do you wanna go see a movie tomorrow, maybe?" Millicent asked, tucking her hair behind her ear. "We could also go to the marine park, see the dolphins and stuff...The splash zone is one of my favorite things, by far."
@FantasyChic Basic first aid type stuff? Got it.
@FantasyChic What sort of things would she know, then? I don't want Dorothy to belittle her over issues Gene can help with, but I imagine she doesn't know much for thrown out backs, shattered legs, or poisons? Sorry, I'm just a wee bit confused as to what Gene knows.
@FantasyChic Quick question about Gene--Her CS doesn't list medical training as a skill, so is she just being super naive about this then? As far as I can tell, she's only got psychology
@Witch Cat Oh, let me know if you want to do an awkward hell scene with Jade, and we all know Vivian is down there too xD Could be an amusing collab
And you should totally make Pugsley! Or the kitchen witch. That'd be cool too
And you should totally make Pugsley! Or the kitchen witch. That'd be cool too
Some of the best things -- people, even -- are accidents. Without any method of knowing the outcome, little miracles can occur, blessings void of any disguise. Such was the case at Number 3 Grant Road, in which Daniyal, a witch damned to burn in hell, performed a small miracle. Rather than die in vain, the boy decided to right his wrong, to sacrifice himself.
Unwittingly, Daniyal fulfilled the requirements of an ancient spell. Most call it the spell of virgin sacrifice, a spell that not only banishes demons, but destroys them. It requires that the heart be cut out, yet that's the thing with spells, they're slippery and likely designed by attorneys, filled with loopholes. Daniyal's heart was cut out with the death of his mother.
And even more miraculously, the spell reached a range of one mile. The explosion blew out the windows of each and every house in the residential area, the noise traveling and echoing throughout the entire town. In small towns, they say news travels fast--explosions travel even faster. To an observer, it would be like a spreading ring of purifying fire, freeing those within a mile radius from demonic possession. Are you able to feel that, the momentary pause in an onslaught of evil? Or are you oblivious to the brief respite?
But will it have been enough, my children? Midnight has struck, and the darkness grows thicker with each and every passing moment. Some of you will survive the rest of this horrid night--others will be found days later, their bodies rotting and swarmed with insects. Take care, my dears, and know that it is not without reason the fear the darkness...
<<Once you've posted for this round, please send a PM to Morose detailing what, if anything, your character gets up to between your post for this round and the next morning. This'll help us save time when transitioning to the next day.>>
@Pundii: Sariel smiles softly, not raising her eyes at all. As the explosion faintly echoes from Daniyal's spell, she finally moves. "A blow has been dealt to the demons, Prophet. Record your visions and rest, for all you see shall come to pass." She doesn't seem to be opposed to answering your questions, but she hasn't moved either. Sancho, for one, doesn't like the angel stalker. Funny that.
@Nallore: Whatever sacrifices you made to LLA must have worked, as Sam lucked out! The instant she approaches Jessica, she gets a better glimpse of her. There's definitely something wrong going on there. The demon doesn't attack Sam, however, and instead simply vanishes. Teleporting, beam me up Scotty level of shit. It's now just you and a barking dog, standing in the parking lot of Aunt Sue's Inn.
@Lady Amalthea: The dog is still barking, but after a soft knock on the room and a brief moment's pause, Mrs. Hudson comes in with a fresh cup of tea. She looks at the window with dismay, recognizing the dog. "I'm so sorry, dear, I've tried calling her owner but she won't pick up the phone...Adriana must be caught up on one of her tours." She continues to prattle on, talking about how Adriana let her dog roam while she was working, as she was a tour guide at the Haunted in Seattle Underground tour. She hadn't been quite herself since her reporter friend, John, died as well. Something's haunting the poor thing, Mrs. Hudson concludes.
@Witch Cat: The explosion from Daniyal's death is echoing throughout the town, and while it may be fainter at Aunt Sue's, the echoes are loud enough. Belial locks the door and shuts the blinds, before giving Sylvia an almost comforting warmth. It's an unnatural sweetness from her spirit guide, but the intent behind it is obvious. The witch, the supposed prophet that Sylvia wanted to track down, had perished.
Aloise Zamora
Location: On the Road in Oregon
Interacting With: The Radio
Interacting With: The Radio
Aloise had made her way through most of the armed forces' songs, ending with her personal favorite: The U.S. Air Force. Had she not been a marine, she would've joined the Air Force, purely for the whimsy she felt each time she sang that song. Of course, that wasn't to say that her singing voice was a particularly good one. It had the prowess and expertise of a child at their first recital, belting Hot Cross Buns at the top of their lungs.
However, rather than the sweeping arms of a conductor cutting her off, it was the static of the radio. Aloise began to slow the car, reaching for the shotgun in the seat next to her, the machete by its side. Her eyes flickered around the car, expecting some ghost or some phantom. Instead, she could only hear static coming from the radio. Banging her hand against it, the static only remained just as prominent. Biting her lip, Aloise brought the car to a halt, putting on the parking break. She strained her hearing, only to make out a single word this time, amongst the static.
"Beware." Frowning slightly, she did a quick visual inspection of the car, seeing no sudden changes in lighting or cold spots. "What do you mean, beware?" Aloise asked simply, her grip on the shotgun tightening.
The radio shut off.
"What are you trying to warn me about?" Aloise asked, clicking the safety off. There was no reply. She sighed, salting the majority of her car for good measure, and checking for any EMF readings. Nothing was there. Doubting it was all in her head, she came to the conclusion that something didn't want her to go to Altsoba.
That, or her hatred of road trips was starting to mess with her head.
Truthfully, the day hadn't gone how Hanson expected it to. He had been waiting for it eagerly to come, having spent months, years even, preparing for it. Old books translated by those with no understanding of any language besides English could only get you so far, and his contact had been banished earlier that day. It had been a genius move on their part, setting her up inside of Vivian.
No one noticed the difference when the bitch was possessed. She practically stayed the same. And now, here he was, squished beneath a surgeon. John Moses had turned out to be more than a complication for the detective, especially with his bitch running around. "Sure, sure," Hanson agreed, grunting slightly when the explosion shook the air. Of course, it was only a minute later when another explosion rocked the bitter night air, caused by Daniyal's dying curse.
The burns on the detective stopped to appear, the bursting boils stopping in their advance. However, they didn't heal. He remained the decidedly most disgusting slightly burnt curly fry in existence. "I'll get you a police escort whenever you want," Hanson muttered, chuckling slightly in his pain. "Mind patchin' me up? No more voodoo required."
Had Amy made the correct decision in saving Detective Hanson?
Howard Brighton
Location: Forgotten Relics - The Shopping District
Interacting With: Darren Andrews @Pundii, Mitsukuri Katsumi, and Zachary Carpenter@BlueSky44
Interacting With: Darren Andrews @Pundii, Mitsukuri Katsumi, and Zachary Carpenter@BlueSky44
Howard's eyes twinkled, running his hands lightly over the book once more. It was in the same manner a stereotypical villain would stroke a cat, right before revealing their diabolical plan. Not that Howard was evil at heart, of course. He had a natural tendency to come off a bit creepy and he always smiled in a way that inspired those around him to punch him. Blinking, he recoiled at Katsumi decked him, rubbing his face gingerly.
"You certainly do know how to pack a punch!" Howard remarked, finishing off his drink. "What's your story, little one? You must have one, everyone's got one...But I sense yours is one worth telling."
At Darren's words, however, Howard hardly batted an eye. Many of his volumes were supposedly books of deep and ancient magic, not that he ever cared to enact a spell himself. He merely enjoyed having the wealth of human ingenuity at his fingertips, by far the best collection he ever had set eyes upon. Not many were interested in Howard's line of work, after all. He had heard one person collecting similar texts in Chicago, of course, but he hadn't cared to get into contact with the assuredly charming young woman.
"The Rise of the Witnesses..." Howard murmured, thinking through it. Certainly, it was a term he'd come across many times in his readings. It was a fascinating idea, one that he'd spent a good portion of time wondering who came up with the theory. He wasn't a religious man by any means. "I'm familiar with that event, but there isn't a spell to stop it, as far as I'm aware...It ends when they complete their slaughter, you see." He smiled, almost cruelly, but he merely enjoyed to bask in his own wit.
@Lady Amalthea ...Touché
@Lady Amalthea Easy mistake to make, with how many you GM :P
Dorothy Pender
Location: Med Bay
"Oh, you know how Preacher and I are," Dorothy replied, brushing off Anisa's comment. As soon as the tube had been inserted and the activated charcoal began its campaign against the poison, Dorothy stood in attention, waiting for Atticus to arrive with the corpse. Had she not been drilled into maintaining a perfect posture, she would've been tapping her foot, waiting desperately for Brutus' body to be brought to the med bay. She knew that if the Captain died, some of the members of the crew would blame her, calling it Alliance sabotage. However, she managed not to think about that, instead regretting that she hadn't studied chemistry as well. It would've helped a great deal in identifying the poison, improving upon her own specializations in medicine and biology.
Dorothy kept her face calm, as her best friend started having a seizure. Everyone had seizures differently, but she knew that Anisa didn't have a history of epilepsy. The activated charcoal treatment wasn't working--at least, not at its current concentration. Dorothy increased the amount of the activated charcoal, and handed Brutus belongings back to Atticus.
"Look through there and see if there's an antidote," Dorothy instructed. "If you can't do that, try to identify the toxic substance on those gorram bullets. I've chucked enough medical texts at you, and if you've bothered to read any of them, it shouldn't be too hard."
Having set Atticus at his task, Dorothy returned her attention to Anisa. Time was working against her, and she grabbed an anti-epiletic drug, phenytoin. Measuring out the appropriate dosage for someone of Anisa's weight and height, Dorothy administered the drug orally, taking great care not to harm Anisa as her body worked against her. "This is an anticonvulsant," Dorothy explained, lightly holding the nasogastric tube, in order to prevent Anisa from yanking it out. The activated charcoal was the only thing fighting the toxin at the moment. While she usually didn't explain each and every thing she did for her patients, she always made an exception for Anisa. If there came to be a day that Dorothy was killed, someone should know how to remove a bullet.
"Preacher, any luck?" Dorothy inquired, as she readied a sedative. If the anti-epileptic didn't calm her seizure, then the sedative certainly would. And if Preacher couldn't find something quickly, she certainly had plenty of Anisa's blood on supply to do a blood test. It'd be best to do that once the Captain stabilized. Dealing with an unknown poison was a task that required two doctors.
The Vengeance only had one.
"We'll need to run a blood test, see if we can identify the poison that way," Dorothy added, determining Plan C as to figuring out what was pumping through Anisa's system. She couldn't help but wish Anisa had told Dorothy sooner about the poison, or that she had spotted it during her initial examination. Those minutes lost could have been crucial.
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