Tuesday shook her head. She hadn't spoken to Ada since high school. The two of them had gotten along fine back then, but with Tuesday's change of lifestyle, they no longer meshed. Kai had been a druggie back in the day, Ada hadn't wanted to associate with one. It wasn't surprising to her in the slightest--most of her old high school friends knew her as Chloe, and her new friends knew her as Tuesday. She was a different person now. "I don't have her number--I think Cynthia saw her shacking up with Kai."
She walked with Tim and the others, glancing as Cynthia sat down. "Yeah, yeah. We'll get some shitty fortune cookies and everything." Sighing slightly at Roxanne's question, Tuesday contemplated replying with sarcasm. Truthfully, though, she had a hard time keeping up with how many of her classmates had died. She knew that at least three had died, or so she could remember. The television program earlier had mentioned a few others....or had she imagined that? Tuesday shook her head, trying to force her brain to concentrate a bit better.
Maybe it's time to get off the hard stuff for a bit... she pondered, before deciding that the notion was silly. The soft stuff never did much for her anymore, she'd developed almost a tolerance for it. "You can't expect us to stay in Grimm and hide like fucking ostriches with our heads in the sand, Tim. I don't plan on being a murder victim in Indiana. I'd rather be butchered in LA or some other Californian nightmare."
Jack nodded, following Ms. Sally along with Tatiana. While his mother had raised him with the belief that anyone could do hard labor, he didn't object to Ms. Sally's assessment that he was packing some muscle. He was more compact rather than bulky, but they didn't allow just anyone to become an officer of the law. He started to get to work, moving food over, and hefting up the rapidly filling pans. "These'd make some good cahdio," Jack joked, turning to face Tatiana.
Catching sight of her grin, Jack smiled goofily, until he noticed her blush and the way she stared at Bazhooli. For a mere moment, a chill seized Jack's heart, only to be recalled once he remembered Ms. Sally's words and the fact that Tatiana would never do that to him. "Knives and a ballahina? Sounds like a wicked show," Jack encouraged, adjusting his grip on one of the serving dishes. Moving them out to where Ms. Sally had instructed, Jack cracked his knuckles a bit, before returning to the kitchen. He couldn't help but note the lack of a dead mouse, and sincerely hoped that mice couldn't become walkers as well.
He heard Sophia offer her help as well, and Jack couldn't help but like the girl more and more. As a friend, mind you. He had a deep respect for people who could pull their own weight, and not everyone would be offering to lend a hand when they only had a single hand to give. "That's awful handy of you, Sophia," Jack said, winking a bit to accent his own pun.
Édouard Riviere
Location: Heard County High School (Franklin)
Édouard growled a bit, seeing the pistol aimed at his head. Russian roulette had been a game his sister, Darcey, had always wanted to play with him--and right now, he doubted that Lyon had a full chamber. And if the Frenchman was willing to waste his ammunition on him....Well, what little Édouard knew, he did know the basics of how to run a criminal organization. Bullets were always needed. "Tu bluffais," Édouard assessed, straightening his back. "Tu as hyper besoin de balle, mon salaud."
Édouard kept his cutlass in one arm, but stood wide, as if daring Lyon to pull the trigger. "Tu n'as pas de...comment dit on en anglais? Ah, oui...ze balls." His mouth was twisted into a grin, but it quickly vanished as his knees were kicked in, and he fell to the ground, his sword clattering from his hand. Fingers dug into his shoulder, and he couldn't help but be thankful that his tattoos weren't being dug into it. His ship and flag tattoos didn't need to be scarred with the filthy hands of the Franklinites. He chuckled a bit as Lyon grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, pondering his options.
"Tirez à pile ou face," Édouard replied, his gambling and thrill seeking addition rising to the surface.
The wind was knocked from him, as enormous pain erupted in his lower regions. Falling forward, Édouard gasped, his mouth almost like a fish, as he attempted to breathe. Eventually, he drew in sweat delicious air, but his nether regions only increased in pain. " NIQUE TA MÈRE!" Édouard screamed, clutching his manhood. Before he could even allow himself to cry, his head was tossed around with the stinging slaps of Svetlana, and this time, he couldn't even bring himself to curse.
Édouard knew that he would need to get up, in order to respond to the baiting of the Americans. However, if his sore leg hadn't ailed him enough, there was immense pain in each and every part of his body. Death seemed sweat and called for, as with the whack Amelia had given him, he doubted that he'd ever be able to come even close to fathering a child. "Je choisis...l'exil."
Tu bluffais = You're bluffing Tu as hyper besoin de balle, mon salaud = You're in dire need of bullets, my (dear) son of a bitch. Tu n'as pas de...comment dit on en anglais? Ah, oui...ze balls. = You don't have the....how does one say it in English? Ah, yes...the balls. Tirez à pile ou face = Flip a coin. Nique ta mere! = F*ck your mother! Je choisis...l'exil. = I choose...exile.
Jaina's hand shot up, right when Kordath explained that they needed to prisoners to be alive. It was one of the things she struggled with, understanding what the difference was. It was why she only went for bounties wanted dead or alive back in the day--she'd always be guaranteed to do it properly. And even the test for whether or not a person would flinch if kicked didn't always work for her. At least sixty percent of the time, she'd say a person was alive, when they were actually dead.
"Kordath, what do living people look like again?" Jaina asked. "Like...I'm still not quite sure what the difference is between a dead guy and a living guy." She grinned widely hearing that the Commodore wanted her to be put on this mission. She always enjoyed getting to have a good romp, and the rebels tended to be awfully fantastic playmates. Her mind went through the various techniques she had been dying to try out, only to hear, once more, that the Commodore didn't want them injured.
Drat.
"Can we hurt them a little?" Jaina asked. "I'm not very good at....not...hurting them." However, the very moment she finished her question, Jesmand had already left. She sighed a bit, shrugging. She'd just act as she normally did, and if the Commodore didn't like it....Well, she plastered an extra big grin on her face, she'd just have to live with that.
Sutton Corandel
Location: Main Hold; The Raven
Sutton shot Luke a look, though she didn't need to say much. Her words went without saying, mirroring the confusion of everyone else in the crew. It didn't make any sense for Kayala to be left behind, with Matthew sent out on the mission. She sighed a bit, considering the success of the Republic.
Fuck it.
"Kayala and I should go. I've worked for the Hutts before, I understand them and they understand me," Sutton said, rather pointedly. "Smuggled for them." She waited for Luke's response, fully aware that everyone in the room would look at her a little differently. The more they learned about her, the more danger her mother would be put in. "The Senator doesn't have very many chances to do this, with all due respect, Captain."
Millicent managed to sneak into her room, avoiding the wrath of her parents. She spent her night reading and watching Netflix, attempting to do anything but fall asleep. Each time she closed her eyes, she saw the moonlit pool, the mysterious bubbling of the depths. It reminded her so much of conspiracy theories, where aliens came down to Earth, and abducted individuals for tests. Pulling out her phone, Millicent did a cursory search, attempting to find out any information about Mako island.
She whistled softly, seeing all of the information pop up about Mako. Shipwrecks and disappearances were incredibly common, and it had made it onto a list of the most haunted locations in Australia. There were more than a dozen websites claiming that it was far more bizarre than the Bermuda Triangle. "What the hell..."
Turning off the phone, Millicent tucked herself into bed, attempting to get some shut eye for the last few hours. Alice would be texting her in the morning, and she wanted to be able to be mostly awake when that happened. Mako island plagued her dreams that night, and likely would for the nights to come.
Nora sighed softly, watching as darkness took over the sky. The heat vanished with each passing moment, and she continued to rejoice in the comfort of her cigarette. Her father didn't approve of the habit, finding it unladylike. She didn't mind, what with everyone in America partaking in the habit. It soothed her, almost reaffirming her thoughts on the world and life in general. Every drag produced the same cloud of smoke in front of her. Wincing slightly, Nora felt a burn on her finger.
"Cén fáth," Nora muttered, putting out the cigarette. Yet the burning sensation didn't cease, and she glanced down at the waiting waters of the Nile, spotting a peculiar glint. Frowning, Nora realized it was the Udjat from her dreams. The burning sensation on her finger had previously limited itself to dreams--and here, here it was in life. "I've gone mad," Nora concluded, her voice hardly a whisper. Fairytales were just that--tales. They didn't have any merit to them, any truth.
And yet, she couldn't deny what she saw. Scooping up a handful of rocks, Nora threw them into the waters, hoping to scare away anything that lurked in the depths. After each of them crashed into the water, she delicately crouched down, reaching her hand out for the Udjat. The burning feeling in her finger didn't stop, and a slight tear spilled from her eye, as the pain didn't cease. "Curiouser and curiouser..." Perhaps it was one of the many artifacts of Egypt, washed ashore. The striking resemblance to the object of her dreams could very well just be a coincidence.
"What are you?" Nora murmured, attempting to pluck it from the watery depths.
Any reservations that Cecily had about Natasha melted away. She couldn't begin to imagine the pain and trauma of cancer. She worked in forensics for a reason: what's dead had already died. There was no fear, no pain, no uncertainty as to whether or not someone would still live. "I'm so sorry," Cecily squeaked, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to Natasha, leaning forward. "We had an armed assault just a week ago or so, left me a bit paranoid...Are you sure you're okay to work?"
She followed Natasha over to the bodies, handing the woman a scalpel. She liked Natasha more and more by the minute, enjoying someone who seemed to be honest and capable in Justice for once. "Consider myself ready to cram for a midterm," Cecily joked a bit, smiling. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled it out, glancing at the text from Riley. Quickly, her fingers dashed across the keyboard as she sent one in return.
Corpses, blood, murder. Y'know, the usual. See you at home soon?
Admittedly, she had grown a bit weary of hiding out in Roy's bachelor pad. And it felt silly, until he was shot and didn't come back, telling her to go somewhere safe. The prospect of going home and sleeping in her own bed couldn't have been more enticing. Caesar lived in the Boston Heights as well. Maybe he'd be willing to protect Riley as well, though his grieving process likely hadn't finished. She put her phone away in her pocket, before returning her attention to Natasha and the corpses.
Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway
Location: Imperial Apartments 4C
Tuesday shook her head slightly at Ronnie's answer. She knew that he'd been trying to be sober a bit more, and she could understand it, mostly. Drugs tended to reduce mental clarity, not add to it. She tapped her fingers against the table, thinking through her limited storage. "Well, only shit I've got is heroine," Tuesday admitted. "Her name is...." Tuesday paused, trying to think of the name. "Cathy Charlotte Constance....Something like that. You could probably google it if this," whack, "stupid thing," whack "would work!" She hit the keyboard with her hand again, only for the computer to practically taunt her, saying that Microsoft Word wasn't responding. She groaned a bit, tugging on the skin underneath her eyes. Tuesday lacked the money to replace it, and she didn't feel comfortable with profiting off of her sister's fame. Otherwise, she could've just done a "tell all" about growing up with the famous Riley fucking Ridgeway.
Her frustration only had increased, of course, since Ronnie confirmed her fears. Marc Tinder was in town, and Tuesday went over to the loose floorboard her stash was concealed underneath. Pulling out the bag filled with drugs, she tossed them over to Ronnie. "Keep this shit safe and if he asks, I'm a model citizen, yeah? Marc Tinder isn't someone to mess with--we went to fucking Murder High together."
She hit the computer again, and this time, Internet Explorer pulled up. She quickly typed in a simple search, and stepped aside, letting Ronnie see the results that turned up. "Forensics in Justice should pull something up...Other than a shit ton of murder cases."
Dorothy raises an eyebrow at the boy's remark. She knew perfectly well that she could simply leave the boy alone, and let him struggle to find some form of shelter. The odds that infection would set in were great, and she recalled the many injuries she tended to as a child, the daughter of a drunken bar owner. "You best stay off it," Dorothy warned, finally finishing setting his leg. She gave him an antibiotic, knowing that the boy wouldn't listen to her, and that he'd do something stupid.
"Now, you can run on back to Patience once the Captain lets you leave, " Dorothy said slowly, "But you'll end up with worse than a broken leg, you understand?" The roughness of her voice was usually masked with the correctness of the Core Worlds, a product of her education and work. But sometimes, on days like these, her more natural voice bled through.
She took off her gloves, putting them in her pocket, as she glanced back inside of the Medical Bay. It was her domain on the ship, but she decided to leave Anisa and Jackson be for the moment. However, from the slight reflection of the glass, she saw her sister, Daphne, looking largely just as she had left her. Dorothy beamed. "Mei-mei, you need somethin'?" Dorothy asked, noting the medical kits.
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