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7 yrs ago
My power grows exponentially each day as we come nearer to Halloween.
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@Lady Luck Lady Luck! *waves hand eagerly* Hi! I'm, like, your biggest fan! Can I have your autograph? I'm a really big fan of the way you kill people and crush spirits. :3

(Will get a post up after I post in AM. It's a posting extravaganza this morning.)


Nora Kingston

Location: Egyptian Museum


It was perhaps quite fortunate that Nora had not penned her notes with a pencil, as otherwise, from the sudden calamity that broke the silence of the museum, the tip of the lead would have surely snapped. She slowly raised her head from her work, recalling the frightful noise. The words had come to blows, so it would seem. Her brothers had gone to fists many times throughout her childhood, but she feared that perhaps Mr. Drake had decided to seek his "prize" in another matter. Rising from the workspace, Nora carefully walked towards the closed door, only to hear the prolific scolding delivered by the Lady Munn.

Clearly, Nora mused, as soon as she had regained her wits about her, the Lady Munn had not been on the receiving end of that blow. The Countess was in a great deal of pain, that much was to be certain. Would it be proper for her to go to Lady Munn's aid? She hesitated on the threshold, the echoes of the shouts still at the center of her mind. If she had been in such pain, wouldst she enjoy the comfort of a stranger?

Perhaps not. Nora frowned a bit, torn between rushing to the Lady Munn's aid, and remaining at the work station as she had been asked to. There was something quite peculiar afoot in the museum, and despite the still tingling brand on her finger's insistence, it was not the mystical events of that evening. No, the oddness resided in the hearts of Lady Munn and Mr. Drake. Nora bit her lip. It was clear the Lady Munn was in a great deal of pain, yet she may enjoy the privacy to collect herself. And perhaps her knowledge that Nora had heard the entire spat would not ease the Lady Munn's mind either.

Walking back over to her notes, Nora sat down and returned to her work. She did, however, make a solemn vow to invite the Lady Munn for tea. Perhaps then she could approach the subject of the man who proved to be more of a scoundrel with each and every passing minute.


Jack Hudson

Location: Building 7 (Rec Center)


If there was one thing Jack adored, it was making Tatiana laugh. The musical giggles that dripped from her mouth, each time he made a fool of himself, were practically heavenly. She was almost like a goddess, aside from the fact that was she impossibly and wonderfully more real than some idealized version of womanhood. Tatiana's each and every movement was wonderful, inspired, and real. Even as he practiced his announcing skills, he could not tear his thoughts away from her.

"Hmm, maybe no on the monstah trucks, then?" Jack asked, again attempting to pull another giggle out from Tatiana. He heard another laugh, however, and he turned in a bit of confusion, before spotting Sophia from before. He waved at her goofily, but remembering his role as ringmaster, settled on an overly complicated and glorified bow. They had something of an audience now, and as he glanced outside the windows, the sun would be setting soon. They were running out of time. The pressure unnerved him a little, but he plastered a goofy smile on his face, and tried the announcement again.

"Weeeeeeelcome singulaaaaaah ladyyyyy to the show of a lifetime! Preeeesenting the Great Bazhooli and the Nightingale, straight from Mothah Russia's fine city of St. Petahsbug! Be amazed by these two pehformahs on their one and only apocalypse world tooooooooour!"

He broke off into a few coughs, ruining (any) dramatic tension he had created. He grinned up at Tatiana once again, noticing as Miss Sally and a few others began moving chairs in. "Miss Sally! Want some help with that?" Jack inquired, before answering Sophia's question. "I'm just excited to see solovey pehform tonight."


Édouard Riviere

Location: Franklin


Édouard followed Sana outside of the school, his mind still buzzing with questions and improbabilities. However, the heat and the humidity were dragged to the forefront of his mind. He couldn't help but be a bit pleased it was almost night--things would cool off slightly, enough for le petit prince to get some beauty sleep. He frowned a bit, however, has Sana acted overly familiar with the strange gentleman from before.

As far as Édouard could tell, she was spoken for. He felt a pang of sadness, but not understanding it, he roughly shook it off. There were more important things to focus on--like seeing if they had anything for him to style his hair with. It was a point of pride with him, his hair. And with the butchery that had already been done to it, he needed all of the help he could get to improve it.

"Ton petit ami...il est....beau..." Édouard said awkwardly, attempting to be kind to Sana. However, the only thing he could think to say was that her boyfriend was pretty. This entire being kind thing was definitely new to him--he'd have to work at it, but even that thought put him off. He hated work. It was perhaps his least favorite thing after underboob.



Tryke Lockley

Location: Franklin


Tryke raised a bit of an eyebrow. She was a graduate mechanical engineer, with specialized knowledge in aerospace engineering and robotics. Her skills were enough to get her a spot on a team that was contracted by NASA to build improved rovers for the next missions. She had been admitted to both M.I.T and CalTech, some of the most prestigious universities in the country. And she was being asked to create sex toys?

She let a pause pass, perhaps to freak out Bridgette a bit with her serious expression, before she let an almost cocky grin spread across her face. "Sounds like a fuck ton of fun," Tryke said earnestly. "Whatever you need, let me know. I can take a crack at it." Her eyes wandered for a moment, over to Marx and the woman from before. Yeah, something was definitely going down there. She glanced back at Bridgette and chuckled a bit.

"Guess he already has someone with dibs on the hand experience," Tryke joked, leaning over slightly to the Viking woman, her voice quiet enough for Bridgette to hear, and for Marx to be oblivious. He seemed to finish talking with the blonde quickly enough, as Marx hopped up into the saddle, accompanied with a few hilarious and classy threats from Bridgette.

Tryke had to stop for a moment to consider whether or not Bridgette meant those. Being impaled by a spear wasn't the way she imagined she'd go--but at least it was creative, right? This had been the first Viking settlement she had ever stumbled across. Perhaps there'd be a few other normal people there, but from the way things were going, it seemed vikings ruled the land.

And that was kind of fucking cool.

"So where are we going, exactly?" Tryke asked, firing up her motorcycle in the quietest way possible, her bat slung over her shoulder. "Valhalla?"
@Lady Amalthea Posting now, m'lady! Sorry for not posting last night as intended, little brother distracted me with low quality TV till 1 AM.


Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway

Location: Club AfterDark


Tuesday chuckled slightly, taking his comments in stride. The shaved head look probably wasn't for her--and it would be a pain in the ass to keep up. She grimaced slightly though, her mind moving back towards her earlier decision. If she was going to go back into medical school, she'd need a damn good reason for them to overlook her criminal history...She shuddered a bit just thinking about it. Rehab.

"Definitely the nohawk," Tuesday commented, her voice a bit distant, as she focused on the road beginning to shape in front of her. The drug trade wasn't one to be in forever. But did she really want to go into surgery? An idea was beginning to take shape. She'd be able to get into school if she went clean, she figured. No university was going to turn away money at the end of the day. But, at the same time, no hospital would hire a former addict--that was bad for business. It'd only bring on lawsuits.

Maybe a private practice. Something under the table. Lots of idiots got themselves fucked up, and hospitals came with a certain legal presence. Perhaps she'd offer her services to the criminals of Gotham Justice. They'd pay better than hospital wages in the end, she figured, and there wouldn't be any messing around with insurance policies.

"I'm thinking about switching careers," Tuesday admitted, glancing at Ronnie. "Underground medical practice, maybe. Only thing is, that means school..." She let her words drift off. Ronnie, she figured, was smart enough to take her meaning. It would be hell, yes--a hell she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to go through just yet.

But damn it, she was getting bored smuggling drugs around the city.


Cecily Ashworth

Location: Queensguard Private Airfield


Caesar mentioning Alicia's name didn't help--but at the same time, it didn't seem to hurt. Cecily dashed with him inside of the small office, glancing around to try to get her bearings. She had met Alicia once--once, while Alicia was live. Chatting with the woman's corpse didn't tend to count as a social encounter. Her hands were shaking, but she then spotted something peculiar.

"Iris?" Cecily asked, her voice hardly a whisper. One hand putting pressure on her wound, the other grabbed the card delicately from the photographs. Dr. Kingston wasn't exactly a common title--especially since Cecily recognized the address. She had helped her third cousin move in there. What the bloody hell was the girl doing mixed up in all of this? Frowning a bit, Cecily quickly put the card in her bag, grabbing a few of the photographs as well, figuring that Caesar would want them, and it'd be difficult to carry them all at once.

Her knees feeling weak, Cecily let herself sit down in Alicia's chair for a moment, silent tears pooling down her cheek as she heard the gunfire pummeling the office. It looked like a dead-end. All they could hope for was for them to run out of ammunition, and to top it all, there was a draft....

"No fucking way," Cecily murmured, her intellectual curiosity rising enough to override her focus on the pain of the bullet wound. She looked down, watching as her droplets of blood, rather than pooling, were dripping through in a line. It reminded her of the scene in Elementary, where Sherlock discovered a safe room by rolling a marble. There was another way out. Scanning the immediate area, she ran her hand on the surfaces, looking for anything...

And then she found a latch.

"Caesar!" Cecily whispered intensely. She didn't dare voice exactly that there was a trap door to escape from, just in case the firing squad outside heard. They would come in eventually, but undoing the latch, Cecily unearthed a hidden staircase. It'd be difficult with her shoulder the way it was, but it was their best chance. Holding on tightly to the bandana, as to keep pressure on it, Cecily glanced at Caesar for the okay, and once she got it, she'd begin her descent.


Iris Kingston

Location: Arkham Asylum Justice Asylum For The Criminally Insane: the Ludwig Building


Having been hired at the Asylum less than a year ago, the corruption and abuse had not yet broken Iris. She continued to walk with a skip in her step, to the extent that one orderly once asked her if he could borrow some of her pot. But drugs were not Iris' secret. Her talent stemmed from a desire to help the less fortunate, as well as a fascination with the inner workings of the mind. Of course, it helped that she had strawberry sorbet set aside for lunch.

"Merci beaucoup, I've got it," Iris replied, her British accent light and airy. She made a policy of never looking down at her patients, always ensuring that she stared at them directly in the eye. It had been the way she was raised. You looked directly at people if you wanted them to respect you--to get respect, you showed respect. She tucked her hair behind her ear, just as Cynthia straightened her own.

"Well, rather than relying on some silly old file, do you like sorbet? I have some scrumptious strawberry sorbet, if you'd like some?" Iris asked. The file could be read later, but she shied away from getting biased first impressions of her patients. There was enough corruption in the Asylum that half of what they wrote in those files could just be out of spite.

Leading Cynthia out of the common area, Iris directed her towards her personal work area, a cozy office concealed behind a door whose plaque read "DR. IRIS KINGSTON." She opened the door for her newest patient, allowing Cynthia to enter before herself. Like most psychiatrists, Iris' workplace was complete with rugs and couches, but she also had a variety of board games and toys in a corner. Each woman who went through the Ludwig house was different. Some of them just needed a space to talk, while others found peace through crafting, or just playing games. On the desk, there was also a photograph of her brother and her, alongside a notepad, some pens, and some colored pencils.

"Oh, and please call me Iris," Iris added. "Some people here like to call me Ize instead, if you like that better. And what would you like me to call you?"
@BlueSky44: Day 6



OOC has been updated to reflect the current standings. I didn't update the supernatural lore tab itself, but I added a section that I strongly suggest you all consider as you continue on from this point in the RP. It details the two methods revealed, so far, to complete the RP. Your ultimate goal is to avert the apocalypse--surviving just happens to be part of that. ;)

Best of luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor...


Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway

Location: Haunted House


As Tuesday frantically attempted to tend to Marc, the FBI agent quiet as she searched for the wound, her mind briefly drifted back to her decision to return to Grimm. She had come back to face her former life, to spit on the remains of Chloe Ridgeway, and prove that she was a new person, reborn as a drug addicted criminal. In the world Tuesday had thrusted herself into, credibility was everything--and this, this was her letting go of the past.

"What the fuck?" Tuesday muttered, unable to find the wound. Fingers wrapped around her own, and her first instinct was that it was one of the props from the haunted house. But glancing at Marc, she realized the man wasn't injured at all. The FBI agent moved. The bullet had hit his fucking vest. She huffed slightly, knowing that if Marc hadn't looked injured, Riley wouldn't have had to shoot Chris. She could have dealt with him instead, Tuesday felt. Her hands were already soiled--Riley's didn't have to be.

"Oh, fuck you Tinder," Tuesday grumbled, hugging him back. Of course it had been oil. She jumped slightly as the haunted house continued on with its normal motions, and Marc arose, heading over towards her sister. Fortunately, Riley didn't seem to want to go on a murder spree, releasing the gun from her grip. Her sister smiled at her, and Tuesday smiled back, feeling ever the more relieved as the lights turned on, and the creepy fair attraction ceased operating.

As Tim came running in, Tuesday didn't fall on her usual brand of sarcasm. Tim was about as useful as a bimbo on Jeopardy, coming in after the firefight had finished. Both Marc and Riley pulled at her hand, and Tuesday took Riley's hand back. "Sorry, hun. Sisters before misters." Winking slightly, Tuesday pulled on her sister to get her to leave. She didn't need to have any lasting trauma from killing the asshat.

Nodding at Riley's affirmation, Tuesday set her eyes forward. "You can say that again. Instead of coming home for Christmas, let's go to Vegas," she suggested, with a wry grin. They may have been about to leave Grim, to leave their childhood home, but Tuesday felt untethered. For a mere moment, she realized that Los Angeles was the closest thing to a home she ever had.

And she couldn't wait to go back.

Quick update, folks. Lady A is on an indefinite extension from this post onwards. Her characters will thus become NPCs of sorts until/if she returns to the RP. Given that Amy is the intended vessel for Lucifer, I'll roll a Will save of sorts for Amy each turn to determine if she becomes possessed. This seems to be the fairest way to me, in order to avoid bias.

I'll also update the OOC this week to reflect current standings. There'll be a new listing in the entity section as well, that'll summarize the two ways mentioned in the RP so far to stop the apocalypse.

Please let me know if any of you have any concerns. :)
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