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7 yrs ago
My power grows exponentially each day as we come nearer to Halloween.
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Guinevere Stark

Location: The X-Van
{"The speed of light is faster than the speed of sound - as in, some people appear to be intelligent until they open up their mouths."}


Guin raised an eyebrow at the Ayita conundrum. As far as she was aware, Ayita could understand English while in her animal forms, so there was no reason for her to be in the form still. Something more conducive to traveling, like some type of dog, probably would've been better. But then again, Ayita was rather strange in general. She had asked Guin a while back for a device to help her communicate with the rest of the team in her various forms, before changing her mind and insisting she didn't need help a moment later.

Glancing over as one of the newbies - Francesco - asked a question, Guin shrugged. "I'd need to familiarize myself with the system. Beast designed this and I haven't had the chance to play around with it, only Mary has. So I do know what to do - ask Mary to fix it. Or if she's incapacitated, it depends on how well I can figure out this system in the twenty or so seconds of time we'd have. So it's really a toss up." She did realize that didn't exactly inspire confidence, but it was the honest answer. She might be able to figure out what to do, but that was assuming it was similar to something she already worked with or that the system itself was intuitive, both of which were huge assumptions to make.

She rolled her eyes at Pietro's antics. "Always assumed its armed," she said, before chuckling a bit. "It's like sniffing chemicals - always assume you'll regret it later on, even if benzaldehyde smells amazing. Except for phenol. Never sniff phenol. That stuff smells like a hospital morgue." She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at Oshea as well. Yeah, they were all incredibly mature.


Nora Kingston

Location: the Museum


For the cluttered office of an Egyptologist, drama seemed to have made its home here. Not only was Nora speaking in tongues, a feat that still terrified her just as it had the night before, but Lady Munn appeared to be in the midst of her own war of roses. Lady Munn's mentioning of Mr. Drake's name, in combination with Lady Munn other suitor, caused Nora to wonder if Lady Munn's love life was normally this high with activity. She had received two deliveries of flowers less than an hour apart from each other, after all. It was not something that Nora had expected, though she did not imagine that Lady Munn had either.

Lady Munn's clumsiness was still shocking as well, though mostly because from what Nora understood, she handled priceless artifacts. Steady hands would be ideal for that job. Had she had the clumsiness of Lady Munn, Nora likely would have chosen to stay far away from anything that could not be easily replaced. The tea clattering to the floor only served as further evidence, though Nora kept her thoughts to herself. There was no reason to question Lady Munn's lack of grace openly, especially since she had taken to the woman's company quite nicely.

There didn't seem to be anything worth adding to the conversation. They were already en route (or would be soon) to Bubastis. Nora simply nodded. She tended to be more quiet and reserved. Yet with the entry of Mr. Drake to the room, Nora felt quite relieved that she had elected to keep her silence. Some show of emotion, negative or positive, was likely about to occur between Lady Munn and Mr. Drake.




Location: Annan


At first, Maeve was a bit concerned that she had misjudged Lady Kirkpatrick and that she should have gone for a softer, milder approach. But after a minute or so, it seemed that she had guessed correctly. She didn't read any signs of irritation or malice in Lady Kirkpatrick's face. The woman appeared to have accepted her, something incredibly necessary for the Cummings plans and for her payment. It was all so that Roisin could have the best education possible in the end. She didn't care much about Clan This and Clan That at the end of the day. All that mattered was that she got paid.

Calum's sigh perplexed her, to say the least. For a liar and someone who employed disguise regularly, it didn't seem to suit him. Of course, it was likely all a bit of the charade he was playing as Father Blair, Maeve decided. When Calum walked away, she didn't turn to look back at him. He was nothing more than a face, a mask. Who knew who the real parson-priest was anyways? Maeve doubted that anyone did, perhaps not even Calum himself.

"Name's Neasa O'Connor, m'lady," Maeve said, introducing herself--or rather, her alias.
Everyone on day 5 or higher has a 3 day extension.




@Nallore@Witch Cat@Pundii@FantasyChic@BlueSky44
Coventry, Massachusetts: December 28th, 2016 - 7:47 P.M. Local Time

~remember, some of you were sent information as to what you know about the Mullo and Hel via PM a while back...~
Outside of Coventry...

The girl with the braids nodded at Carolina, though she didn't appear to be particularly concerned. The entire situation hardly fazed her, as if this wasn't the first time she had done something like this before. But given that Carolina recognized her, it likely isn't too hard to work out what she's doing in the woods in the middle of winter or why she's particularly insistent on giving her things away.

"Got a sleeping bag. It's made for this weather," the girl said nonchalantly. "Besides, like I said, you'd be doing me a favor. You'll give them one hell of a trail to follow." She then turned and got a good grip on the tree, before pulling herself up once more, moving branch by branch. "I'm Guin, by the way!" the girl shouted out. She paused for a moment and flashed a smile down at Carolina, before moving the rest of the way up the tree and back onto the branch her sleeping bag was attached to.

Within Coventry...

Ever since she was a little girl, Folly's mother, Fiodora, had told her Roma folklore tales. Some of them were sweet and inspiring, meant to give hope and peace to those who heard it. Others were horrifying and induced nightmares, warning the Roma children of what they must do in order to survive. The tale of the mullo had been one of the latter. Some hunters had heard of mullos before, but not many. They had become less common due to Roma burial rites improving over the ages. Dhampirs used to be regularly employed to detect them, but their jobs had become irrelevant over the years.

Eudora's mental command stopped the mullo in its tracks, allowing the witch to get a good look at the creature. Aside from the long black hair, the mullo is the spitting image of Folly. And of course, a lengthy scar across its face, marring its features. Yet Eudora's mental control only lasts for a few seconds, allowing the mullo to dart out of the way of Darren's bullets. His second bullet nearly hits the creature, but it moves with unnatural and horrifying grace, nimbly dodging them all. Entirely silent, the creature then darted towards Eudora, wrapping its cold fingers around her throat.

Aloise fired a round off quickly at the mullo, but it missed. She had to aim a bit poorly to avoid hitting Eudora in the process. The marine readied another shot and aimed, watching the witch have her life slowly choked out from her. But a moment later, Eudora fell to the ground along with the mullo. Strong was on top of the creature, attempting to pummel it into submission, but he left the mullo's hands free. They wrapped around his neck and tightened, choking the life out of the strongman.

Before anyone could do anything, Strong was dead. Eudora was the lucky one--though she had sustained deep bruising around her neck. The mullo rose from the floor, before glancing over at Darren and charging towards him.

"Darren, watch out!"
@Nallore Id appreciate one ^^
Change of plans - update will be tomorrow. Lab ran late, barely had enough energy to write a lackluster post for SNW. I'll give extensions to those whose counter is getting pushed




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


Alisanne chuckled incredulously at Edgard's comments about finding those responsible for her disappearance, as if it was the silliest thing he had ever said to her. Though considering the usual topics of conversation between the pair, perhaps it truly was. Jokes and murder didn't always tend to mix. "The flask is of the utmost importance," Alisanne repeated, folding her hands behind her back as she continued to walk towards the docks. Her own disappearance didn't appear to concern her in the slightest.

"As for a crew, you will need to locate and convince survivors," Alisanne mused. "But given the general atmosphere of death and decay here on the island, I doubt they will protest leaving it too much."


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


For a moment, the flask gave off a soft glow. It rapidly faded away, leaving the flask harmlessly in Narcissa/Anastasia's grasp. Unlike what had happened to the last unfortunate soul, Isaac, the flask seemed harmless. Perhaps it was because a living person held it, perhaps it was just luck. Of course, there was still a more pressing question. Now that Anastasia had the flask, what was she going to do with it?

"Good. Now we unleash its power," Septima instructed. "Have the woman drink from it."

In the shipwreck, Sirena too will feel the beckoning call of the flask, but it is diminished. Should she choose to follow the call, she'll find herself drawn up to sea level, not too far off from the island. If she tries to swim in the opposite direction of the island, she will only end up where she began. She cannot leave.
I'll be getting a post up tomorrow, regardless as to whether or not @Pundii has posted
Will be getting a post up tomorrow ^^
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