Will be posting tonight. :) And maybe submitting a new character, depends on how quickly I finish updating her.
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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@Pundii: On day 5
Dorothy Pender
Location: Shuttle headed to the Vengeance
Dorothy hardly batted an eye, as Gideon attempted to show off his prowess, and the shuttle hardly moved. New recruits in the Alliance army had behaved exactly like that, and the new doctors were always the worst. They assumed that they were gods, that nothing could touch them, and they cowered when confronted with their own mortality. She suspected on some occasions new medics were purposefully given patients beyond the reach of modern medicine, in order to break them.
"I'm quite impressed," Dorothy said, watching as Gideon rubbed his face. "I assume there's a technical reason to rub your face and hit the console?"
She smirked slightly, actually impressed as the shuttle rose. In medicine, hitting the patient didn't tend to fix problems, but perhaps engineering was just different that way. She made a mental note of tough love as a prescription to treat mechanical failures, certain to remind Gideon of that next time he had to fix something on the ship, that all he had to do was hit it. But Dorothy didn't forget that Gideon was practically a child still. It was heartwarming to see his carefree innocence, void of the scars of war and loss.
"Gideon...Do you like mei-mei?" Dorothy asked cautiously, looking forward, rather than at the boy.
@BlueSky44: Day 6
Nora Kingston
Location: Egyptian Museum
Nora nodded kindly at Lady Munn, quieting down once more. From the Lord Major's remarks, as well as the entire muddle of conversations, she decided to make the choice to withdraw, to quiet the room down by one more voice. It struck her as curious that Mr. Drake, a man who appeared so inclined to chatter throughout her short acquaintance with him, had fallen silent. Still, her thoughts were more focused on the task ahead.
Her father, despite having her as his assistant, hardly ever allowed her to visit the excavations themselves. He mostly insisted that she remain in her home, sorting through materials that he dropped off with her, and accomplishing any other tasks that amused her. It wasn't too dreadfully boring, but she had wanted to use her education in the field of mathematics for some use. Perhaps this would be the only time in her life that Eleanor Kingston could prove to be of use.
It was true, the expedition to Bastet's cult center would cost a considerable and hefty sum. It was surely irresponsible of her, but Nora had a notion to acquire some pounds from her father, in order to help to fund the expedition. Acquiring money from him was never a challenge--unless he disapproved of the activity. And the prospect of venturing in the company of strangers to an old religious site hardly would be something Dr. Kingston would approve of.
Of course, he certainly would not be pleased if he ever knew his youngest daughter was being offered a drink at this hour. It only took her a moment to devise a solution. Leaving word that she had gone in the company with other ladies of their social class to a spa would certainly please him. It went against her honest nature, but after the events of that night, Nora felt firmly that answers were necessary.
"Allow me, Lady Munn," Nora offered, reaching out and helping the Egyptologist to steady the teetering stack of paper. Her hand still pained her greatly from the brand, but she hated to see the educated woman struggling to hold all of the papers together. Nora quickly deduced that the Lady Munn was a beauty without grace.
Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway
Location: The Park
Her phone buzzed before the search results page had even finished loading. It was another text from Marc. She rolled her eyes at it, hesitatingly slightly before she dismissed the notification. Although Tuesday knew that she had indeed started the conflict, she didn't want to deal with Marc at the moment. Even as an adult, she still retained her need to please everyone, only now, it caused her to run and hide, rather than to aim to truly meet their expectations.
Dangling her legs, Tuesday remained perched in the tree, confident that Marc wouldn't be able to find her for a while. Chris' website came up, and it made her feel a bit sad just looking at it. He still listed high school films on there, as if anyone cared anymore what someone did in high school. Fortunately, the local news station had a far more promising website, including his email and phone.
Tuesday dialed the number, her legs still swinging. Regardless as to whether Chris picked up or she hit a voicemail, Tuesday would tug on her hair, before scheming up something to say. "Hey Chris! It's Chloe, Chloe Ridgeway. I was wondering if you'd like to meet up to talk? Like...like right now. I'm in the park. See you soon? It's been ages." She almost felt like gagging at her voice, having slipped into the soft and sweet tone she had throughout high school.
@BlueSky44: On day 5
Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway
Location: Riley's Apartment
Tuesday raised an eyebrow. "Suit yourself then, suit." She couldn't even answer Ronnie's question before Marc interjected, and while he wasn't wrong, Tuesday imagined that she'd have more explaining to do to Ronnie later that night. She didn't tend to talk about Grimm and the events that happened there all too much. Any street cred she possessed was just an extension of her employer's, the one who supplied her with the drugs, and indicated which clients to serve. Surviving the Grimm Massacre, as she thought of it, wasn't going to convince people of her ability to move product.
"Not too shabby," Tuesday shrugged. "I almost liked the shit on the walls better. It had more character to it, y'know? Very rah, rah, rah!"
And indeed, it was as if they were relieving the Reunion all over again. At Riley's comment, Tuesday was confused at first, before realizing it must have been when she left the station angrily, and hid herself away in the park. That had been the very day she decided to embrace a life of crime. "Grimm's the name of our town. We went to fucking Murder High--it's famous, google it if you want to."
Cecily Ashworth
Location: the Morgue ---> Near Queensguard Private Airfield
For once, the traffic didn't seem to be conspiring against them. Cecily wasn't certain whether or not that was a good thing, as she did have a fear of what might happen at the airstrip, and a fear of what might happen if Caesar and she arrived too late. Life, truth, and justice were hanging in the balance, and with such high stakes, conquering her fear of Caesar had become an easy task. She had actual foes to fear now, she was certain.
"They aren't messing around," Cecily murmured, taking in the gigantic brick wall. It reminded her of secret government facilities in books and films, and as she glanced up, she expected to see a guard taking aim. Caesar's instructions only confirmed her apprehension about the facilities, but the evidence as to Alicia and Lorna's deaths were inside those walls. "No one protects an airfield this much..."
She was, of course, thankful that she never wore necklaces anyways. She only wore jewelry for formal occasions and at conventions, as they tended to get in the way and pose a slight hazard for lab work. As tugged off her black denim jacket, she was forcefully reminded of her tattoo on her wrist. It depicted a dopamine molecule, one of its various resonance forms, with small colorful portions surrounding it. Tugging on her shirt sleeve, she attempted to cover it up to the best of her ability.
"I'm not exactly sure how to obscure the tattoo but...Hopefully this works," Cecily said a bit weakly, forcing a smile, the helmet still on her head. It was a rare moment where she was glad that her hair was an almost forgettable color, rather than some vibrant shade of red or purple. Still, she doubted that it would take someone capable of carrying out such a complicated conspiracy all too long to discover Caesar and her identities, whether or not they tried to conceal them. It bought them time, in her opinion--and not much else.
As Caesar took them around the outskirts of the complex, Cecily felt her phone buzz with the texts from Roy and Riley, but she left them unanswered. With her luck, they would zoom in on her Hufflepuff phone case, and somehow trace it back to the nerdy acting coroner of Justice.
Jack Hudson
Location: Building 2 (the Mess Hall) ---> Building 7 (Rec Center)
Jack eyed the biker as he came in, not certain whether the biker was new to Newnan as well, or if he was a regular. He chuckled to himself at his own joke--he was a New-Newnanite. Or perhaps the others were Oldanites? He turned to tell his thought to Tatiana, only to once again be forcefully reminded that she was off in the Rec Center. Spotting Miss Sally, though, he grinned and waved at her as he walked over.
"The wall's looking wicked fine," Jack told her, grabbing plates of food for the performers. "The blonde....Bridgette...she went off to go help with something I think, figured I'd see what else I can do." Nodding a word of thanks for the plates of food, Jack carried them out of the Mess Hall, pausing for a moment as he remembered how to get to the Rec Center. Quickly reorienting himself, he hurried along through the streets of Newnan, until he found the recognizable building.
Pushing the door open with his back, he grinned his classic goofy Jack grin. "Dinnah!"
Édouard Riviere
Location: Following Lyon
Édouard practically ignored the old man who ran up to them. He never liked the look of old people, part of the reason he was quite happy his uncle died young. The sagging skin, the wrinkled creases, the angered pores--it all served to nauseate him. Almost like Peter Pan, he had vowed to never grow old, and the fact that a walking relic had survived to this point confused and offended the Frenchman. It was as if he learned that the most vile creature on the planet had outlived the most saintly, and the irony of that thought was entirely lost on him.
"Ah, bon!" Édouard exclaimed, feeling entirely relieved that the pretty girl wasn't related to Lyon. He hadn't seen Svetlana in a few hours, and already, his heart had started to move on. He was a fickle person, constantly moving from one thing to the next. But having heard that Sana wasn't related to Lyon, Édouard didn't feel like he had too many questions to ask. His worldview had been restored, everything was right.
Except...
"Pourqoui est-ce que vous n'avez pas me tué?" Édouard asked bluntly. "Vous êtes le boucher des enfants, pas leur oncle!" He paused for a moment, before considering that perhaps Alisanne had orchestrated all of this, and that nothing was real. It was a long scheme, but not one he would have put past her. But he shook off the idea quickly--his sisters had better things to do than torment him from France.
"Pourquoi est-ce que vous êtes comme ça?"
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