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Recent Statuses

1 yr ago
Current Two 4+ year long RPs completed within 20 days of each other - now THAT'S what we're talking about!
7 likes
1 yr ago
Congratulations to the cast of the Gifted, we just finished our RP after almost four years! Excelsior!
17 likes
4 yrs ago
It's official - accepted an offer and I am going to grad school next year! :) #DrMorose
19 likes
4 yrs ago
Congratulations to the Gifted for hitting 500 IC posts and to Darke Magyk for completing the RP! Excelsior!
6 likes
4 yrs ago
I graduated from college today~
19 likes

Bio


Age: Mid 20's
Birthday: May 15
Ethnicity: Irish & English American
Pronouns: She/Hers
Major/Minor: Chemistry
Occupation: Graduate Student
Languages: English, French
Current Bio Theme: Beelzebub / Good Omens
Previous Bio Themes: Lorna Dane; Sylvie Laufeydattir; Ahsoka Tano; Harley Quinn; Mood Board / Wanda Maximoff; Bernadette Rostenkowski; Fiona Goode; Sally; Scott Lang; Felicity Smoak; Nico Minoru; The Frost Triplets; Gertrude Yorkes; Violet Harmond; Clint Barton; Lorna Dane; Selesia Upitiria; James March; Tony Stark; Olivia Moore; Harley Quinn

Rp's Currently Gming:
Rp's Currently Enjoying:
Future Projects:
  • Star Wars: Rise of the Empire

Completed Projects:



Most Recent Posts



Nora Kingston

Location: the Museum


"At-a em kshat-ten; aru-a em kshent-a; nuk un rekesh-eksh-eth; teseriu hra-sen er-a. Nuk unv!" Nora said, her eyes a bit wide with terror once more as she spoke not of her own accord. The experience was still as terrifying as it had been the night before. A new fear was slowly beginning to engrain itself into Nora--the loss of control over her own body. While she had been crippled by sickness before, she still was able to determine the actions she took. But with this, some ancient tongue felt as if it temporarily controlled her, causing Nora to utter words that she was clueless as to their meaning.

Nora was as in the dark as Lauren was when it came to the languages of Egypt. She spoke Irish and English. Anything more than that required careful hours with a plethora of reference texts, just in order to decode meaning from various symbols. Despite living in Cairo for well over a year, Nora had not picked up the native language. English had sufficed thus far and she far preferred to focus on her studies of mathematics in her minor capacity of an assistant to her father with his work.

"I do not understanding this language either, Lauren," Nora admitted, wishing to show a bit of solidarity with her friend. She had known Lauren longer than she had known anyone else currently present.


Guinevere Stark

Location: Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters
{"Heroes are made by their choices, not their gifts."}


By the time Guin arrived at the garage, Nina seemed to be (mercifully) silent. There were a few newcomers, but Guin had had Siri read the basics of their files to her on the drive up from New York City. In many ways, it was entirely silly. She had been rushing out to Upstate New York just a few hours ago and now, now they were all about to drive back. It was poor planning, but with five? six? seven? energy drinks in her veins, she figured she'd be fine. Besides, Guin imagined that she'd be helping with security systems and the likes. While she wouldn't mind fighting the Brotherhood members, she knew that strategically, she'd be kept away from combat.

She was "fragile" after all. Both she and Cassandra were. They were the only two on the mission that this virus was deadly to. Anyone else here, as far as they were aware, would be perfectly fine if exposed. Listening to Marygold's words, Guin smirked a bit when Pietro came in late. For someone with super speed, he always did seem to be running late. Assuming that they both survived this, she'd have to tease him about that later - hardcore.

Of course, she couldn't help but be excited with the car. Part of her was jealous that Hank hadn't shown it to her, but Guin understood why that hadn't happened. Still, she was as curious as Pietro seemed to be about all of those buttons. It was what she loved about science -- it was basically just pushing the buttons of the universe, in order to see what happens. "If you push some random combination and we get killed, I'll kill you," Guin joked, taking a seat inside the car. "By the way, newbies! I'm Star--Agent Stark. I'm a squishy human, but I'll be able to assist you with science, tech, and chemicals. So far, my success rate with not blowing up labs is 100%, which is a great qualification to have," Guin said, messing around a bit at the end.


Jenna Westbrook

Location: Inside Town Hall


The stars seemed to align. Jenna managed to pick the cockroach off of her arm and she tossed it aside. She could hear Finn and Dec finally leaving Town Hall, meaning that she'd have a chance to poke around and get some decent answers. For the ghost of someone who had been brutally murdered just hours ago, Mayor Ryder was being fairly cryptic. If it had been her, Jenna likely would've just been explaining all of the details of who killed her, how, and why.

Instead, Mayor Ryder seemed to want to lead her on a tour of Town Hall. Fantastic. Spotting the air duct, Jenna crawled underneath it, making a mental note to roll around in the dirt some once she got to the coal mine. She was going to look like crap--might as well use it to add to her story. Emerging into what she assumed was the records room, Jenna couldn't help but smirk slightly. Of course this was where Finn had gone. Jenna wasn't really sure why she expected anything else from her. However, there wasn't time to stop and reminisce about friends--Mayor Ryder was on the move again.

Following the mayor into his office, Jenna was relieved the door was unlocked. She didn't have some of Finn's skills when it came to breaking and entering. Raising a bit of an eyebrow at Andrew's gesture, Jenna wasn't sure if he got the point of someone who could see ghosts. "I can hear you too, you know," Jenna said softly. She didn't want to be overheard, just in case someone else happened to be within earshot, somehow. "This is way more dramatic than it needs to be."

Still, Jenna made her way over to his desk and began to examine it.

@Nallore Day 6
@Nallore: Day 6
@FantasyChic: Day 5




Location: Mournweald Estate, London


Over at the Mournweald estate the preparations for Mosi's funeral were in full bloom... almost. To the complete horror of Clarice Crane, the mother of the departed, the funeral preparations had hit a hurdle. Half of the family expressed complete refusal to proceed with the proper etiquette required for the upcoming grim event. Mosi was her daughter and while she didn't always see eye to eye with her, the proper etiquette and the traditions demanded a proper funeral.

“No, stop this.” A young man stated with firm voice, cutting off his own mother's path.” We CANNOT proceed with this. You know my sister's will. She demanded direct cremation in any event of her death and for everything else to be handled by her friend from the colonies.” Ernest Crane stated with one of his sister by his side to support him.

“Stop this...” Their mother growled really low as to not make excess sound, throwing a look at the house servants.” You know the traditions, the funeral will be held tonight...”

“NO.” The young man stated again.” I personally wrote her will since she couldn't. It is clear as day... at least her death, she will face as she wishes.” The young man wouldn't budge from his position. He himself didn't interact much with Mosi, but that was both because difference in age and the fact he respected her to leave her free. He didn't wish to lose his sister like that, but now she was dead and dammit, he regretted not interacting with her more.

“Stop this... it's unsightly.” Beatrice said in really low voice.” Just do the traditions... people expect it. She's already dead, Ernest. She won't mind.” The sister stated to the huge shock of her still living sister.” What? She did whatever she pleased with all her life, she cannot stupidly rebel and tarnish our name any further now. Beside what will... it's not official.”

“Tell me, you didn't mean that!” Bridgitte, the second sister uttered in disbelieve.

“What didn't I mean? That our family's the bad talk of everyone? The rumors? The disgrace?” Beatrice stated flatly.

The tensions were high right now as Clarice found herself at the bridge of a huge family scandal right in the worst of possible timing. Worst part was that her husband, William had entered his study after the earlier argument about what to do about the funeral and hadn't left since. He was unable to decide.

Outside of the estate itself, the Crypt carriage finally arrived after its departure from Crypt Manor. Virginia was accompanied by Alfred and her brother, all of them dressed in fine mourning attire, appropriate for this day and age. There was never a shortage of black clothes in any Crypt household, even if Virginia preferred an innocent lavender herself. The black gown only served to accent the paleness of Virginia and James, though Alfred's skin was nowhere near as ghastly in comparison.

"Ginny, are we gonna dance the mamushka for Mosi?" James asked eagerly, hardly containing himself as the Crypt family left the carriage. He was accompanying his sister for a few principal reasons. The death threats made against her brother's life made Virginia desire to keep him close. He had the traditional Crypt obsession with death and the macabre. And of course, the Crane family adored British tradition, from what Virginia had come to understand. The presence of the Viscount Wenwyinth might possibly be welcomed at the funeral, even if Virginia was the true acting head of the Crypt family at this moment in time.

"Of course. We danced the mamushka for Nero. We danced for La Voisin. And we danced for Mary Bateman. We'll dance for Mosi as well," Virginia explained. Virginia had only been alive for the dancing of the mamushka for the last individual, someone her father had admired very deeply. She remembered seeing the body on display after the execution. A soft smile graced Virginia's lips.

"Will Mary be here?" James suddenly added, as Alfred finished giving instructions to the carriage driver as to when to return. The funeral, Alfred imagined, would take a while. He was a bit apprehensive of the entire ordeal, knowing that Virginia and James would have different expectations for the burial than the Crane family would.

"If you keep asking after Sister Hale like that, someone might think you're taken with her, Master James," Alfred said seriously, though there was the slightest bit of a smug smile on his face.

"I am not!!!" James protested, looking as if Alfred had suggested that he might dress only in pink and wear ribbons in his hair.

"I believe you, Master James," Alfred replied, as the trio walked to the steps of the manor. "The real question is, Master James, whether or not Sister Hale will."

The rather unusual for the time commotion insie the Crane's family home was continuing as the siblings were arguing to a point that was bound to escalate into a full bown scandal when one of hte servants informed them that 3 people had just arrived outside in a carriage. Going by the description, Ernest turned towards the front entrance right away.

"Stop it." Beatrice called once more, she too getting the feeling knowing who arrived." Do you wish for our family to face even greater disrespect in the eyes of everyone? There are things we must uphold." She tried to bar his way, but was pulled away by her mother for her own susprise." Mother why are you stopping me?"

"This is enough... I do not wish for my remaining children to quarrel between themselves. Let's see what Lady Crypt will decide..." THe older woman stated as Ernest stormed past his sister and eventually out the front doorway of the estate.

"Lady Crypt, I'm glad to have you here... especially given the situation." Ernest stated with a rather rushed manner, forgoing some of the pleasantries that were normally going to be present whenever people arrive." My name's Ernest Crane." He introduced himself since he never really talked to or met up close Virginia or James for that matter.

"My sister... requested in her will that should she dies, she want's to be cremated right away, and Lady Crypt, you should be the one to organize the funeral ceremony aside that. She mentioned something about 'not wanting the bad influence of this society'..." Ernest quickly explained as Mosi's mother showed on the doorway, waiting to greet Virginia and James in after her son's done breaching the etiquette enough.

"Ernest, invite them inside already. This is not a talk for the public..." She stated coldly.

Virginia blinked. She was not used to normals speaking so quickly with actual purpose. Generally, there was what seemed to be a never ending round of pleasantries that precluded anything meaningful. It would be poor form, poor manners, to do otherwise. It did not strike her as a bit strange that Mosi had entrusted her burial procedures to Virginia, but more so that this was the first she was learning of it. It was already the evening hours and she had to imagine funeral preparations had already begun. She would've appreciated more notice to plan such an event for her dear friend, but it would have hardly changed matters too much. Virginia had spent a good deal of her time in the laboratory, attempting to uncover the truth behind a death threat.

"Can I watch the cremation?" James whispered, tugging a bit on Alfred's pant leg. The butler shook his head slightly--whether it was in affirmation or negation was hard to tell--but James seemed to take it positively. "Do you think she's got maggots?" James then added, hardly bothering to whisper this time. He was getting too excited about seeing a real corpse--the corpse of someone he knew, even. Strangers weren't nearly as interesting.

"Master James--" Alfred began, only for Virginia to hold up a hand. "Excellent question, little devil. Perhaps that is a project you could take on in addition to your lessons--the prediction of maggot infestation in corpses." James' jaw dropped at the very idea--his very own experiment! "In your laboratory?" James asked, hardly able to contain his glee.

"Yes, though Miss Evers might be persuaded to set up the dining room table for your studies for you," Virginia replied, before turning her attention fully to the Crane family. While most would have offered apologies for James' behavior, Virginia did not. He was a little boy and he acted his age. What was there to apologize for?

"Now, let us discuss the matters at hand," Virginia said, awaiting the formal invitation to enter the Crane household. "Bodies do not always rot as slowly as would be convenient."

“Yes...”Ernest muttered chosing to disregard the rather unsettling things that Virginia's brother was saying.” Please, welcome to our home.” He said, gesturing for the three to follow him inside.

Mosi's mother scowled and simply moved away, while the rather unfriendly sister just couldn't help herself but give both her brother and Virginia a hell of a unfriendly glare before choosing to go to her room.

“Me and Bridgitte have been trying to stall the funeral preparations until now.” Ernest explained.” Mother and Beatrice have been pushing to proceed with normal funeral for Jeanette. Since her wish was for you to handle it, can we assume you know what she wished for?” He asked. Frankly he didn't care much what people would say right now. He'd deal with it later. Saving face was important, but family was even more so. He realized it now, sadly too late to do anything about it.



Location: Annan


Annan was beautiful, though Maeve could not help but feel a bit of a longing for the streets of Dublin. It felt like it had been months since she was home, though it was considerably less time than that. Still, it had been more than just a few days since she had last seen her daughter and her family. Stifling a bit of a chuckle at the stern elderly voice--the image of either the parson or Rory getting hit with a cane was a comical one--Maeve turned to face the direction of the voice. Seeing the front of the dress shop, Maeve's eyes then focused in on the woman.

She seemed to be simultaneously frail and tough--frail from age, tough from just about everything else. Immediately, Maeve was already sizing the woman up, figuring that she likely had to be Lady Kirkpatrick. Maeve had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at the parson, knowing now that his clumsiness was all an act. Everything about the man, as far as Maeve was concerned, was fake. Why, if she heard that he had been mentioned in the papers, she likely would've simply called it fake news.

Either way, Lady Kirkpatrick certainly didn't seem to be the type that needed help. They had hardly been there a minute and Lady Kirkpatrick had already put both men in their places. While Maeve had assumed that she'd need to play a more docile and sweet part initially, she realized now that likely wasn't so. Making sure that she was standing straight, holding her shillelagh in her left hand, Maeve nodded curtly at Lady Kirkpatrick.

"Aye, me lady. I am 'ere ter assist yer since the men in this world seem unaware or unwillin' ter admit that yer are perfectly capable av 'andlin' yerself," Maeve said, holding her ground and making eye contact with Lady Kirkpatrick. She did appreciate Lady Kirkpatrick hitting the parson-priest with her cane. It was something that Maeve herself likely would've done, if she didn't have anything on the line.


October & Bonnie

Interacting With: Everyone @Nallore
Location: the Zephyr (Cockpit)


Coulson considered Cassandra's request. The Gifted Index itself was controversial, to say the least. Individuals like Charles Xavier and Erik Lensherr were outspoken against it, claiming that registration of any group of people was inherently prejudiced. But protocol was protocol--and S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't protect the world from people with gifts without knowing who they were. And they wouldn't be able to protect gifted individuals from the world either. May shook her head slightly, anticipating Coulson's response.

"We can't do that, Agent Reed. The list is secure--our eyes only. Your sister's identity will be protected just like any other individual," Coulson said firmly. His tone implied that there wouldn't be a discussion about this. Rules could be bent and protocol overlooked, but this apparently wasn't going to be a situation like that.

Quite understandably, October's internal temperature shot up a few degrees. Small wisps of smoke came from her dress, with the blonde haired girl seemingly not noticing. "How would you like to be put on a list and monitored, Agent?" October interjected.

"He doesn't have to answer that," May said coldly, but Coulson held up a hand. "I am on a list and monitored. So is every agent in this room."

"By choice. You weren't born a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent," October replied. She may have helped these agents live, but she wasn't going to allow herself to just be registered. Bonnie had remained silent for the most part so far, considering her options. She had already pushed her luck once today. But still, she had made a promise to Cassandra to try to help.

"What if they were placed on the index, without monitoring provided they send in reports to S.H.I.E.L.D. once every month?" Bonnie suggested. "With all due respect, sir, HYDRA infiltrated us. We could use all the help we can get."
@Pundii 4 day extension granted ^^
@Nallore Jk it'll be tomorrow evening! Studying for exam took longer than expected




@Nallore@BlueSky44@FantasyChic@mnkee
The Port of Tortuga: April 4th, 1719 - 3:45 PM Local Time


Try as Sirena may to satiate her thirst, her efforts are futile thus far. The more she drinks, the more she craves it. It's a vicious circle that doesn't appear to be ending anytime soon, though she unfortunately hasn't gained fangs or any other new 'powers.' In fact, it may just be all inside Sirena's mind, a psychosis created by the immense damage Luisa dealt. Sirena may not have died physically, but perhaps she has mentally.

However, the chance of physical death still is nonzero. Harlianne's eyes seemed to have stopped misting over, remaining fixed in their current cloudy grey. With her cutlass at the ready, there isn't any sign that Harlianne recognizes Sirena or that she even stopped to consider Sirena's claims. To her, a monster is a monster. "Shut yor mouth!" Harlianne chastised, swinging her sword in a swift motion, aiming for Sirena's neck. This time, Sirena will be able to duck out of the way of the blade. (~send a PM for combat rolls!~)

Meanwhile, a wicked smile graced Alisanne's face, as if Edgard had told her something highly amusing. But what could it have been? The messenger had told Edgard of a vicious attack, of Margot's death and Alisanne's disappearance. Yet there she was(?), looking as if it had happened to someone else, as if she had been the one to plan the entire thing and see it to fruition.

"Only the dead need vengeance," Alisanne chided. She then winked at Edgard before composing herself once more, the perfect image of professionalism. "I need you to collect the flask, Baron of Blood and Fire. Unsurprisingly, my brother failed to accomplish that task. It is imperative that you succeed."

The Devil's Triangle: April 4th, 1719 - 3:45 PM Local Time


~PM with possession information sent to Nallore~

Septima nodded at Elissa, a bit impressed. Not everyone was able to understand the workings of the arcane, but it seemed to come intuitively to Isley. Septima smirked with approval, wishing for a moment they had met under different circumstances. Perhaps she would have been able to take Elissa on as an apprentice, train her in herbology and hexes and potions. "We will see what happens to the girl," Septima said. "No magic is without price."

As for Édouard, he looked around first before responding to Millicent, as if he was searching for a better offer. Seeing none, and the fact that Jean was still glaring at him, Édouard couldn't help but pout and nod, agreeing to Millicent's terms. He hated the fact that no one in this place seemed to speak French and that he didn't have a clue what was going on. At least his sisters weren't in this place--that would've made it hell for him. And the girls weren't too bad either, though most of them seemed a bit too scrawny and intelligent for his liking.

"Did it work? Have you possessed the woman?" Septima pressed.
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