Morose

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Jack Hudson

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Location: Building 7 (Rec Center)

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At first, Jack felt a little at unease. Judging by the serious expression on Bazhooli's face, he figured that the Russian wasn't too keen on being the Best Man of a stranger. He supposed that he could ask the happy looking doctor as well--or maybe the angsty military captain? The names were escaping him slightly, and he nodded slightly as Meg left, only to watch as a curious transformation undertook Bazhooli.

And then, in the most manly of fashions, he found himself swept off his feet and wrapped into a gigantic bear hug, as Bazhooli wore an expression of utter joy and pure folly. His back went pop pop pop as Bazhooli, again with great masculinity, thumped him during the hug. Of course, Jack was no stranger to the bro hug. As a cop, they would embrace with great manliness all of the time, usually followed by a quiet exclamation of no homo, bro. It was perhaps fortunate that that was one of the few R's Jack never dropped. Calling his brothers in the police force his beau might have been a little awkward, and ruin the great macho-ness of the embrace.

"That's wicked great!" Jack exclaimed, thumping Bazhooli back on the back during the embrace. His goofy grin showed no sign of vanishing, and as Bazhooli requested that Jack do the same for him one day, he nodded. "Damn straight I will," Jack promised.

As Bazhooli more or less set him down, Jack's eyes widened at those mythical words. Bachelor party. He had only seen them in the movies, and he couldn't help but doubt it'd work in the apocalyptic world they lived in. Besides, this was all for Tatiana. He'd rather they spend the efforts throwing a party for her, showing her how much he treasured her, but also, how much he was certain everyone else in Newnan would come to.

"You don't have to go to all of that trouble," Jack said. "I mean, I doubt walkahs make good strippahs," Jack joked, despite only seeing strippers through his work, as his division was sex crimes. The law generally didn't get too involved in rating the merits of those they arrested, as well as the clientele.

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Édouard Riviere

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Location: the Field ---> The Infirmary (Franklin)

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"Je n'ai pas de béguin pour elle!" Édouard half exclaimed, half pouted. His usual nastiness towards having to be sent off on yet another errand was curiously absent, perhaps because he rejoiced slightly when he got to throw the shovel down. However, he didn't see why Lyon was insisting on holding his hand. Félix hadn't even been able to do that too much, and Édouard resented the elder Frenchman all the more for it. He wasn't a toddler--it was ridiculous that he, Édouard Gautier Riviere, had to be escorted around like an infant!

However, as they returned to the infirmary, Édouard rolled his eyes. Hadn't he just cleaned this place? Truthfully, he couldn't remember his way around Franklin all too well, merely not bothering to remember where was where. For all he knew, the room of death and decay Lyon had forced him to clean was located on the Moon, and they had taken a rocket ship when he wasn't looking.

Amélie? Édouard thought, noticing the redhead in the room. A bearded man was holding her hand, and Édouard rolled his eyes again. He supposed that perhaps she and Svetlana were parasites, though the Russian belle was curiously absent. Perhaps Amélie had murdered her, Édouard considered. The redhead would pay for...Well, he couldn't quite remember what, but he knew that she had something to answer for.

Feeling someone grab his hand, Édouard huffed slightly, figuring that it was Lyon. But seeing that it was Sana, his eyes widened. He hadn't been paying much attention to what was going on, and he threw a look at Lyon, as if to once again declare that he didn't have a crush on the woman. However, he let her put his hand on the bloodied stump, and rather than walking away, he did put pressure on it. It wasn't out of any sort of moral obligation. It was more that he figured if the stumpy man died, Lyon would make him clean up the mess.

That sounded like a lot of work--far too much effort for him.

His ears winced slightly as he heard them switch back into English, and he let out an almost miserable sigh. It had been nice, those few moments when everyone made sense, and everyone spoke properly. But now, now it was back to the mangled mutt language of this inane country. Oh why, why did the world hate him so?

Translations

Je n'ai pas de béguin pour elle! = I don't have a crush on her!

A New Dawn - A Star Wars RP

Will be posting shortly.

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

@Lady Amalthea Writing a post now, sorry for the delay!

🦄 After Miranda - A Firefly Rp - Season 1 (Completed)

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Dorothy Pender

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Location: the Med Bay ---> Outside the Boy's Room/Cell

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Dorothy closed her eyes for a moment, letting her mind be still and quiet. As much as she loved organization and keeping things in their proper place, even the doctor was feeling a bit weary after the events of the day. Still, all that was required was a good bit of work, a mild bit of sweat, and then the medical bay would be restored to perfection. She moved over towards her instruments, separating them off for sterilization, when she heard muffled sounds coming from what she assumed to be Patience's lackey.

"Bie woo lohng," Dorothy reminded herself, but her impulsive nature got the best of her. Her time in the Alliance military hadn't fixed that tendency, as much as she thought it would have. At least she didn't run off like Genevieve did, however. She wasn't nearly that far gone. Quietly stepping out of the medical bay, Dorothy peered around the corner. No one seemed to be around, and she frowned slightly, hearing the muffled noises continue.

"You best by dying in there to be making this big a fuss," Dorothy warned, standing outside of the door. The way the boy was acting, she figured something was wrong. However, it wasn't like they kept pet reavers on the ship, and there weren't any stowaways, as far as she knew. For a brief moment, her fingers lingered over the door, before she curled her hand into a fist, and put it back down by her side.

The boy was fine, she had seen to that. But now, he could be a wei shian dohn woo. She didn't want to deal with any sort of mess, no matter how injured he was. As long as he wasn't in need of medical attention, she decided to mind her own business, and leave him in the room. After what had happened to the Captain that day with Patience, the boy could stay quiet for a little bit. Dorothy certainly didn't want to have her head on a pike if she opened the door and the boy escaped. Anisa was, she figured, in a bad enough mood already.

🦄 Deeper Than The Sands - Merged With T.S.

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Nora Kingston

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Location: Egyptian Museum

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Booze and publication rights, that seemed to be all the starlet and the journalist cared about. It was distasteful in the extreme, and had Nora been unable to restrain herself, she likely would have rolled her eyes at them, and given them a few choice words about their behavior. She knew that the social customs of the British were stifling, having resigned to never escaping them ages ago, but couldn't those two show some decorum? Even Mr. Drake, whom Nora was quickly beginning to realize was not the most respectable and honorable of gentlemen, appeared more aware of social conventions than Haakon and Josephine.

However, she noticed a decidedly different scene between the veteran and the Egyptian woman. The blush coloring his cheeks was lightly amusing, and as she observed the pair of them, they appeared to be becoming rather close. Her eyes flashed away from them for a moment, before she almost peeked back quickly, her head steady. It was abundantly clear that they fancied one another. It would likely cause a small scandal, but she supposed companionship based in love could resist that.

"I would be honored to accompany you, Lady Munn," Nora replied, bowing her head slightly, as she smiled softly. From the power and authority the Lady Munn appeared to possess, Nora reasoned that her father could not be too upset to learn she had befriended the Egyptologist. Besides, they were both of the nobility. There was little reason to fear Nora accompanying the woman, as society had deemed it acceptable and proper.

Anois go bhfuil go leor iontach, Nora thought, as she listened to the Lady Munn's skillful scolding of the actress. For a moment, her eyes twinkled with humor and acknowledgement of it, far too muted for most to observe, but a few might spot Nora's approval of Vera's actions. She could hardly imagine that anyone could contend with the starlet for very long, without having to have a few choice words with her.

She was quite relieved when the Lady Munn accepted the Lord Major's offer to escort Josephine -- and the others -- to another location for the desperately wanted booze. Of course, she was a tad bit nervous as the prospect of applying mathematics for a more practical purpose, having always applied cryptographic principles for her own amusement before. A great challenge had been placed before her, and she could only hope she was able to meet it properly.

However, hearing an exclamation, Nora glanced towards the door. The accent caught her attention chiefly, a sort of kinship she possessed for the other Brits in Egypt. However, at the manner in which he addressed the Lady Munn, Nora grew ever the more curious. The Egyptologist was a rather complex woman indeed. Nora pondered what other peculiarities would come to light before morning dawned.

Abandoned Hope - Concluded

@Pundii: Day 7

Abandoned Hope - Concluded

@Pundii: Day 6

🦄 Murder High Reunion - Concluded

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Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway

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Location: Funnel Cake Stand (Carnival at the Park)

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Tuesday watched as a man appeared with a hefty camera bag, tapping on the shoulder of each and every ginger woman he saw. Well, she only saw him approach one or two, having just spotted him a few moments before he approached her. Still, it brought a little smile to her cheeks, the almost absurd nature of it. Here they were, two people who had gone to high school together, and they didn't recognize each other. It was perhaps the most real thing about this reunion so far, beyond all of the fake tears and remorse about the dead. As far as Tuesday was aware, most people didn't give a shit about those who died--most people had stuck to their friend group, and as long as their friends were safe, all this would amount to would be a post on Facebook about how precious life is. It just served to remind the Grimm graduates of their mortality.

As Chris made his rounds and finally reached her, Tuesday laughed a bit as he tapped her on the shoulder. She wondered what it must have been like, seeing her for the first time in ten years. She had tattoos and piercings now, features that would have horrified her back in high school. And rather than clinging to the fantasy that she was straight, Tuesday had begun to express her actual sexuality, though she hadn't come out quite yet. She felt like she was a fundamentally different person.

"So good to see you, Chris!" Tuesday said sweetly, giving the cameraman a quick hug. "I was hoping I could ask you some questions, since you seem like a well informed guy? Working for the news and all, you probably know what happens in this town before it does, huh?"

And while her voice sounded sincere, Tuesday internally gagged at her words. She sounded like every sweet and innocent kid in every movie about life, and it nauseated her. She hated the person she used to be, but it was the role she'd have to play to get information, she felt. The compliment would hopefully loosen Chris up, as from what she remembered in high school, he wasn't very talkative.

"Like...What the hell is even going on?" Tuesday asked, momentarily slipping back into her current personality. "Everyone seems to be dying, the police have no idea what's going on, and Cynthia is going off about stars?" She paused for a moment, as if to let the impact of that seep in. "Is anyone really safe? And do you know anything else about whoever's doing this?"

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

The feeling when you're 99% certain Cecily and Caesar are about to die.

🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S.

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Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway

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Location: Riley's Apartment ---> Bus Stop

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Tuesday nodded, pausing in the stairwell with Ronnie. She pulled her hair back, for a moment fantasizing about cutting it all off. She figured she could rock a pixie cut if she wanted to, but she had formed a habit of pulling on her hair when stressed. A shorter length didn't lend itself to that easily. And besides, as indecisive as she was about her hair, she'd probably want to put it up in braids the very next day. It made more sense for her to just leave it be.

"Yeah, thanks for that," Tuesday said, forcing a smile of her own. She couldn't help but wonder why her Grimm friends continued to bother her, to scold her for her behavior, and all her childish. It wasn't that she expected them to change their opinions--it was more that it didn't make sense to her any more why they cared. Riley she could understand, they were twins. But Marc? He had no reason to give a fuck about her, he had every reason to haul her ass to jail or leave her to die.

Following him to the bus stop, she frowned slightly as Ronnie pointed out that Roy wasn't heading in the correct direction. At first, she considered it was an emergency call he was responding to--but detectives don't exactly do that, do they? But given that it was Justice, Tuesday shrugged it off, figuring that Roy was dirty. It was rarer to find a clean cop these days, reminding her a bit of the show Gotham on Fox. One of the inmates during her last stay in prison had been obsessed with it, insisting on putting it on during TV time. But hey, it beat the home improvement shows they usually watched.

"Been a few times," Tuesday replied, a coy smile on her lips. "That's where I hooked up with that girl with the shaved head? Can't remember her fucking name anymore, but AfterDark seemed like a good time, from what I can remember."

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Cecily Ashworth

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Location: Near Queensguard Private Airfield

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Cecily nodded, returning her attention to what was, for now, the closest thing she had to a crime scene. Caesar very well could have been right. Someone had cut through that grate to create an opening, and for a complex with such high security, she doubted just anyone could have done it. Part of her mused if that was the offense Alicia was murdered over. Biting her lip, she wished that there was some more trace evidence in the surrounding area, something to show if Alicia and Lorna had indeed crawled through here, in order to infiltrate the compound.

Except that hardly made much sense to her. Alicia and Lorna operated security for Queensguard--why sneak in? Biting her lip, she imagined that this was a Jessica Jones comic, telling the story to herself in imagined comic book panels. The solution almost appeared more obvious that way, though she wasn't entirely sold on it. Alicia and Lorna had made a conscious decision to betray Queensguard, the mysterious operation connected with almost everything, it seemed. Her would-be murderer was on their payroll, that much Cecily was certain of.

At Caesar's hushed words on the phone, Cecily's ears perked up slightly. Now that would explain the large escort. She wasn't a huge fan of the current presidential administration, but McCormick had been one of her favorite cabinet picks. Not that she spent all of her time thinking about politics, of course--it was more that her grandmother, Annie, had called her and talked with her about the importance of female representation in the cabinet for hours, as she mentioned how much she wished her Aunt Nora had been alive to see the day.

But then again, McCormick's presence was as troubling as it was exciting. If this really was a massive conspiracy orchestrated by Queensguard, then McCormick was involved somehow. And if McCormick was involved, then the federal government was implicated in this. The scandal and conspiracy was overwhelming in proportion, and once more, Cecily couldn't help but hope slightly that the FBI would take jurisdiction soon enough. It was reaching something beyond the scope of the Justice PD.

"Thanks," Cecily replied softly, tying the bandana around her wrist to obscure the tattoo. She already figured that they were going to go inside, and she pulled out her phone, seeing the text from Roy. She realized that this was perhaps the last text she'd ever send, that the possibility of her being murdered inside the compound was high. And so, if this really was the last text, it'd have to be perfect.

The game is afoot! Come at once! -C.A.