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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Jack Hudson
Location: Building 1, Infirmary
Tatiana seemed to be a natural at this sort of work. Jack couldn't help but beam. It might not have been teaching dancing, but she'd found a place within Newnan, from what he could tell. The kid looked a little shaken up, turning over and refusing to talk, and Jack couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been on his own for. This world wasn't exactly kid friendly. However, at Tatiana's shock gaze, Jack grinned broadly. Language barriers. Those were still a thing.
"It's something doctah's say," Jack started to explain, before wondering exactly how to explain it. He shrugged a bit, before deciding his definition would do. "Usually means their tone and all towards the patients and staff--if they're nice or not."
But at the comment about improving Tatiana's English, Jack couldn't help but feel a bit protective. Learning a new language was damn hard--case in point, he hadn't picked up much Russian from her. But the French accent of the doctor soothed him slightly. He probably had gone through the same process as Tatiana.
"Maybe we'll make a trade, solovey," Jack joked. "I can help you with English, and you can help me speak Russian."
Beatrice and Chloe
Location: Building 2, Mess Hall
From the look on Meg's face, Chloe had a feeling her sister wasn't in Newnan. She was torn between sisterly duty and a need to do more than just survive. Riley, she figured, had presumed her dead. It had been a miracle that she survived, that she had managed to nurse herself back to health in the first place. By all logic, Chloe figured she should have died back then.
Beatrice, however, listened idly to the Ashton's end of the conversation on the radio. As soon as she heard the mention of James, she felt ever so slightly more relaxed. He was a slightly less unfamiliar face, and while she wasn't sure whether or not his "title" in front of his name was a joke, it didn't matter. People tended to stick to what was familiar, what was comfortable.
Beatrice had questions about the frequencies of incidents, but she figured that could wait. Ashton seemed to be a very blunt and to the point sort of person. Interviews first, and then, then she could figure out more. It's not like much would change her mind, however. As settlements went, Newnan seemed pretty nice. The old woman even muttered something about a show.
@Sigil Chloe'll try to hide the fact that her former occupation was drug smuggler. Probably dress it up as "working in pharmaceuticals" or something like that. She'd likely ask him if he'd seen Riley. I think she'd probably be helpful in medical?
Beatrice will be her usual, slightly quiet kinda judgmental self. She'll probably ask questions about how often incidents occur, but she'll stay in Newnan. Would be open to discussing her life in Justice if directly asked about that. For job assignments, don't have anything specific I'm aiming for with her.
Beatrice will be her usual, slightly quiet kinda judgmental self. She'll probably ask questions about how often incidents occur, but she'll stay in Newnan. Would be open to discussing her life in Justice if directly asked about that. For job assignments, don't have anything specific I'm aiming for with her.
@Witch Cat Missing something under anything else, otherwise looks good.
Location: the Wyndham Estate
Virginia accepted the drink from Millicent without too much hesitation. Her friend was too noble to poison her, and if Millicent ever did attempt to lace her drink, Virginia would be but amused. Perhaps it was a Crypt family oddity, this obsession with death and the horrors in this world, yet Millicent's words brought a brief smile to her face. Her mother would have said something similar--not from a fixation due to marriage, but from practicality. There was a reason every Crypt owned a good portion of black. It was best to be prepared. And of course, with the number of public hangings Virginia attended, her black dress was put to good use.
"It is heading towards Almack's," Virginia explained. "I was not able to follow it much further without substantial risk, and as much as I would love to explore the depths of whatever hell awaits me, I cannot abandon dear James just yet."
She then recounted the rest of what she had seen to Millicent--including the peculiar fog that had attached itself to the corpse. She sipped more of the water, considering for a moment what duty called her to do. "I shall send word to Almack's to cancel the event for this evening. Your mother cannot attempt to wed you to Satan if there is no party to attend." Virginia then stood up from the bed, stretching her limbs ever so slightly.
"If you wish to live to your birthday in two days' time, then I must strongly advise you to remain at home," Virginia continued. "I would hate for your deathday to come so soon, dear Millicent."
Nora Kingston
Location: Garden City - Apartment 301 Maratos Building at No.6 Walda Pasha
As the sight of her charming rooms grew ever closer, Nora found herself with an almost slight skip in her step. She bid adieu to the man of questionable morals and withdrew to the safety of the complex. Once inside, she attempted to withdraw quickly to her own suite of rooms, only to be met with the curious eye of the night clerk. She found it to hardly be his business what she did with her time, but she was the daughter of a peer, as much as she attempted to shun the peerage and exist as an individual, rather than some mere title.
The clerk opened his mouth to speak, but Nora silenced him with a simple glare. After the high class escort of Mr. Drake, she simply did not care for any further company that evening. She ascended the stairs, and once she arrived at her rooms, she heard her beloved Scottish terrier barking in excitement. As much as she adored Spot, Nora could not help but frown. He usually did not startle quite so easily.
"Spot, it's only me," Nora whispered, entering her apartment. Her hand tingled slightly, and the bell continued to peal throughout the night air. As she shut the door behind her, Nora then noticed a calling card left on the table, her name written in cursive script. She recognized her father's handwriting. As soon as she took the note, Spot calmed down as well.
The note was as short as it was filled with disappointment. It would seem that her father had come by unannounced, as was irritatingly normal for him, and noticed that his youngest daughter was not at home at such a late hour. Accusations of besmirching the family name, as well as the threat of confinement for female hysteria, were hardly even left to subtext. Vexed with her father, she quickly ripped up the note, letting the pieces fall to the table. Spot then proceeded to lick at them, winning a small laugh from Nora.
Her father could wait for his explanation. For now, Nora wished simply to bandage her wound if possible, and fetch a pair of gloves from her wardrobe. She had an inclination they would become needed now for any respectable company, as much as she found the social niceties to be exhausting, they did provide a certain comfort for the outcasted woman.
@Witch Cat I'll review your character by tonight. :)
Jack Hudson
Location: Building 1, Infirmary
He nodded, nuzzling the top of Tatiana's head softly as she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. The entire world appeared to stay still for just a moment as he embraced her, ensuring that his Russian ballerina was safe in his arms. It was perhaps the best feeling he'd ever had.
"Damn," Jack wheezed, once Tatiana hugged him practically to death as well. "Can't...breathe..." he squeaked out, only half joking. Tatiana wasn't anyone to underestimate, that much he knew. If they made it to their 50's, she'd probably be an expert at cracking backs with strength like that. As Tatiana released him, Jack chuckled slightly, before noticing the predicament of the pale little kid with rosy cheeks.
"You alright, little guy?" Jack asked. "Tati'll take care of you. She's a supah stah like that." He beamed at Tatiana for a moment, before moving to get out of the way. He didn't want to get underfoot, especially in an infirmary of all places.
Beatrice and Chloe
Location: Building 2, Mess Hall
As Meg attempted to make the newcomers comfortable, Beatrice simply nodded in her direction. She liked James. He was strange, but funny at the same time. And in general, Beatrice wasn't much of a people person. A nod would do for interactions.
"Yeah, I'm just...It's my sister, I've been looking for her," Chloe admitted. "But it doesn't seem like she's here." She let her voice die abruptly, and thankfully, the Captain of the settlement appeared before long. She was afraid that if she spoke of the possibility of her sister's death, she might just lose it, without the healing effects of drugs to keep her from tears.
Beatrice listened intently to Ashton's speech, making notes of the turns of phrase, and most importantly, the procedures. Everything was relatively standard, and the mention of swift and certain punishment only brought credibility to the former army captain. The events of earlier, with the explosion, had been a fluke--an unlucky incident. And Beatrice wasn't an idiot--settlements like this didn't turn up very much in these days. It had been three years since civilization crumbled. This looked like the last remaining piece of it.
Chloe, however, listened to Ashton's procedures the same way she listened to the guards whenever they transferred her to a new prison. There was a near hollow look in her eyes, perhaps dead, even. The pain of not seeing her sister served to mask it slightly, but with the smallest infractions causing punishment, and execution being a possibility? She wouldn't be surprised if they killed her out of prejudice, or slapped a pair of cuffs on her and threw her in a cell.
Cecily Ashworth
Location: the Morgue
Cecily could no longer say she was a stranger to pain. Her tattoo had been almost unbearable when she got it. Bonnie's hand had nearly been broken in Cecily's grip. When she was seventeen and broke her arm after tripping over a laptop charger, she felt like she was going to die, that that was going to be it. And when they shot her, the bullet eating into her flesh, it had been a new level of agony she previously had no word for.
The only word that sufficed was the senseless screaming that poured out of her, as Natasha fished around for the bullet. Caesar only held her down stronger in response, and while she rationally knew it was for the best, she almost wished she was dead. By the time Natasha finally removed the bullet from her, Cecily was drenched in sweat, her throat hoarse from screaming. At Natasha's question about resignation, Cecily nodded a bit, struggling slightly to talk.
"I love my job--but not enough to die for it," Cecily explained, smiling weakly. Maybe she would take a job with Caesar, if that was a possibility. But the idea of retreating to the safeness of academia was equally appealing. There'd be not bullets flying towards her in a university lab, at least. But now wasn't the time to think about that. "Not until we close this case, however."
It was time to bring in Alicia and Lorna's killer. Whatever Natasha had found out, Cecily was nearly dying to know--literally.
Iris Kingston
Location: Justice Asylum For The Criminally Insane: the Ludwig Building
As Cynthia shrugged off the straight jacket and tossed it into the trash, Iris knew that it would be correct to be afraid. Cynthia wasn't a halfway house patient, and here she was, easily brushing aside measly security measures. But she could hardly bring herself to believe in the use of straight jackets in the first place, and from what she could tell, Cynthia was mostly harmless. Her infatuations hadn't caused too much harm, from what Iris had gleaned in the files.
"She sounds quite lovely," Iris smiled encouragingly. Cynthia told her very little, but at least the woman was talking to her. If she could learn more about Cynthia's relationship with this Jenny Green, then she could perhaps help the woman to regain some more of her long lost sanity. Even now, as Cynthia tapped her fingers against the desk to mimic playing the piano, Iris held out some hope for her. "Ah, excuse-moi, Cynthia..." Iris apologized, as the phone rang.
She picked it up, listening to the tired mumblings of the clerk. Her eyes flickered to Cynthia. It would be poor practice to send her away again, only to request for her to come back. And she certainly couldn't meet with this Relic until she had gotten Cynthia sorted. "Would you ask him to wait, please? I'm with a patient," Iris replied into the phone. Once she finished talking with the clerk, she'd hang up, and return her full attention to Cynthia.
"Terribly sorry about that, Valentine," she apologized again. "What sort of things did you and--is her name Jenny?--like to do together?"
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