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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



Cecily Ashworth


Location: La Hacienda - Monterrey, Nuevo Leon, Mexico
Skills: Constitution

"Forensic techs normally don't - it's a little weird, I know. A friend of mine is a cop - and while I'm not officially his partner, he refers to me as such," Cecily explained. She was feeling frazzled, meaning that she wasn't intentionally leaving out explanations. She instead was forgetting that other people didn't know everything she did. It was a classic case of it made sense to me when it really only made sense to that particular person. But as to whether or not she could trust Roy? He had hid is involvement with Juno from her, but he came clean about it. And he understood all of her comic book references - while that wasn't a qualification for trusting him, it certainly made Cecily like him as a friend. "Yeah, I can trust him."

As Natasha grabbed her suitcase from the bed, Cecily knew that she had to make a choice soon - stay with Caesar or leave with Natasha. Natasha had saved her life and came with her, selflessly, to Mexico. Caesar made sure that she got out of Queensguard's complex alive. Natasha had pointed out that she could still climb out of this rabbit hole - while Caesar was dragging her farther into it. Both of them had a certain amount of self-interest, yet they also each tried to keep her safe. She felt entirely indecisive about what she should do. There was an argument for each side that she found compelling.

In short, she was indecisive. She considered pulling out a coin and flipping it to make a decision, but her life could be impacted by the choice she was going to make. She shouldn't be so careless about this decision. Biting on her lip, she considered who in her life she could truly trust: herself. Old friends. Riley. Roy. She didn't know Natasha and Caesar very long, but...

"I'll come with you," Cecily finally decided. In that split second, she had detached herself from the situation at play, thinking about all of this like it was a comic book. Would she want the interesting side character (herself) to go with the strong female protagonist or the slightly cliché male anti-hero that would startle even the Ghost Rider? She'd want the female character. She'd want Jessica Jones or Scarlet Witch or Rogue.

Just as she felt some of the tension and uncertainty melt away, she turned her head as she heard a knock on the door, seeing Caesar standing there with a file of some sort. She assumed that it had to do with Alicia - maybe the autopsy report or something similar to that.

Iris Kingston


Location: Justice Asylum
Skills: Psychology (Iris)

Jaina giggled slightly, beaming as Risa mentioned how entertaining she was. While Risa was approaching her with caution, Jaina was almost entirely relaxed. Her limbs were loose, rather than tensed. But that didn't mean she wasn't ready to spring into motion if she decided to, but it'd be on a whim. Almost everything with Jaina was on a whim. See a necklace she liked? She'd grab it. Life was her playground and the only rule was that she needed to have fun.

"1Pochemu ne russkiy?" Jaina asked, confusion clear in her voice. "2Zachem mne govorit' po-angliyski, kogda ona mozhet izuchat' russkiy yazyk, yazyk trapetsii?" Jaina tilted her head, sizing up Risa once more. If she had dated a Bazhooli, then she should understand. Had the Circus really sent her? Her eyes lit up brightly as another thought occurred to her. The Circus had sent her an assassin to play with, knowing that she'd be bored. How kind of them! How brilliant! What fun she'd have! "3Yeshche kak statuya," Jaina promised.

Iris wasn't surprised that Jaina adored Cynthia's pictures - though she had a feeling Jaina was referring to the blood and not the paints. But if the translator had her talking, she couldn't dwell too much on that. Iris couldn't understand what Jaina was saying, but from her file, she had an inkling as to why Jaina had elected to speak in Russian. It was the language of the place she felt was her true home. "4Oui, la fille qui peint des belles images...Elle vient d'être kidnappée. Est-ce qu'elle sache où Cynthia est?"

Jaina's ears perked up as she heard Cynthia. Risa had already asked her a little about her. The doctor, for some reason, wanted to find her friend. Jaina doubted it was to congratulate her on her latest artistic masterpiece. She didn't know what language Iris was speaking - and Risa at some points - but she didn't care too much. It provided her with a decent background to let her whims come to her and fill her with musings. She was starting to feel a little restless - and bored of this room. She wanted to have fun with the assassin - and maybe finish up her latest artistic response to Cynthia with the doctor's head.



Dr. Pender and Dr. Townsley


Location: Lady Luck: Table Main Room
Skills: Perception (Dorothy)

Dorothy's breath hitched in her throat once more. She wanted to turn her head, in order to avoid having the image of her best friend pointing a gun at her little sister seared into her memory. Daphne's apology only increased Dorothy's nervous distress, with the ex-Alliance doctor sitting perfectly still. Had she been standing, she would have been in parade rest. It was the most she could do to not scream and vomit up everything she had consumed that day, with the dread eating away at her.

Daphne's apology would either fix everything or make it a thousand times worse. Maybe Anisa would see it as Daphne truly apologizing - or maybe it'd come off as more teenage angst. Dorothy couldn't look away, she couldn't avert her gaze. But somehow, when Anisa pulled the trigger and the shot went off, her eyes were shut tight. A primal wail threatened to rip its way out of her, as she believed her sister to be dead. She slowly opened her eyes, feeling weak all over again when she realized Daphne was fine - fired, but fine. Her relief was apparent in her face as she returned Anisa's gaze.

Fitz seemed to be malfunctioning, to say the very least. Gun violence and alcohol didn't seem to be a great mix and the naive engineer simply sat down, looking across the table in shock. Every few seconds, he'd turn to Jackie as if about to ask her a question, only to shut his mouth and look back across the table. No one seemed to be hurt. His difficulty came with an inability to figure out how to process this entire situation. "Is th-this sort of thing normal?" Fitz whispered to Jackie.

Had Anisa not delegated Harper to help Daphne, Dorothy likely would've sprung up to do so. But as she reminded herself, that would only make matters worse. The more she tried to do for her sister, the more incompetent Daphne appeared to the others and the less chances Daphne had to grow. She tried to look over her cards, but found herself too stressed and relieved to even focus on them. Looking up, she tried to get an idea of who was in this establishment and where - more specifically, looking for Atticus. A drink was definitely appealing.


Elizaveta Romanova, Sister Mary Ignatia Hale, and Virginia Crypt


Location: Russian Imperial Circus Tent City (Regent's Park)
Skills: Tretiy Glaz (Elizaveta/Passive)

Elizaveta glanced over to her uncle by affection and gave him a soft smile as her head bobbed in the slightest of acknowledgements. "I have no doubt that my announcement vill be nothing less than perfection," she told him. Turning her attention to Virginia she shook her head slightly. "Think nothing of it. There is no debt to pay. Vatching over a child never should require payment or debt." The Grand Duchess thought it was odd that Virginia would say such a thing, perhaps things were done differently in England than they were in the Circus.

"Yes, privacy vould be best for ve have much to discuss and little time, let us retire to my tent," Elizaveta suggested to the two women and motioned over to her home within the Circus before giving a dove like chuckle to James. "Everything will become clear soon. Nov, you two, have fun with Myska, he listen," she said gently.

"My names Adam," he said to James before looking over at Myska as Elizaveta spouted something off in Russian to Petrov. He nodded and took control of the boys for her.

"I have seen him out run a horse to take it dovn and devour it," he said as he picked up Adam and placed him on Myskas back before motioning for James to come to him so he could place him on Myska as well. "Come, ve go for run."

Elizaveta smiled and turned towards her tent. "They will have fun, this vay please," she said as she started for her tent. It wasn't an uncommon thing, in fact to this day Elizaveta was known to ride Myska through the tent causing all sorts of havoc when the mood struck her. It was rare but she still did it from time to time.

The Great Bazhooli bowed deeply, potentially leaving one to wonder how he kept his tall, black hat upon his head as he did so. "Ov course, Grand Duchess. Is what Viktor does, better than any. You vill be centerpiece of attention, eyes drawn to you like snow upon mountain peak." Briefly, he began to consider the full implications of Virginia's words. "Dearest alabaster Lady Crypt, for please, realize that vith important guests, our people vill be guarding against outside peoples coming in. Tent City is circus and guests of circus only, and no von is allowed into Grand Pavillion Tent. Von of "Talinks" not invited; vhat happens, happens." He shrugged, "Even if must happen vith axe."

"Спасибо," Elizaveta stated towards Vlad, she knew things were in good hands with him making sure of things while she was dealing with other matters. The man had the best hands in the Circus. There was no denying that.

Pausing in thought, Vladimir remembered that he had met two of the family that Virginia had named, one of which he had peered into the soul of. It was the woman, sister to the one that Mary had held at gunpoint. Yes, he knew exactly the ones, and apparently there were more of them who intended harm to young James. Mary remembered them, too. Thinking back on it, her friend might have been spared had she pulled the trigger the previous evening, although without appropriate cause or provocation that would have been a sin most cardinal. However, it is not murder to defend the lives of others. "Certainly. Let us discuss this, and other matters, with discretion and haste." She followed Elizaveta back to her tent.

The Circus' generosity was more than Virginia had hoped to imagine. No one seemed to even hesitate when she explained that the Talinks would be an issue that would potentially take an axe to handle or that James would need to be attended. While Elizaveta insisted that there was no need for repayment, she made a mental note to speak to Alfred about liberating some funds to donate to the Russian Circus. Virginia cast a last look at James, noticing how cheerful he was with Adam, Petrov, and Myska, before she followed Mary and Elizaveta to the tent.

Once inside the tent, Elizaveta motioned towards the soft velvet padded short benches in her tent. They were a customary item in any place where women had to deal with long gowns and many layers of petticoats. No backing to a chair made it easier to sit and Elizaveta felt they were better than the floor and pillows at this point, especially considering how much heft her gown and cloak had. "Apparently there is much to discuss. Let us address safety first, of little James. I knov not exactly vhat is occurring with your family but I do knov vhat I sav in his eyes. Vhat do you need precisely?"

Mary found a bench and leaned her polearm against it. It was customary at this time for the person of higher social standing to have the floor when beginning the conversation in earnest, else the person who had the grievance. As Virginia had already divulged the difficulty involving her little brother James and Elizaveta had taken the initiative to ask for greater detail, a thing that Mary wanted as well, she took a conversational backseat and merely listened for the meantime. If question or comment came to mind, Mary would express it. But for now she contented herself with removing her long white robe, revealing a fitting black cassock, chain rosary, and her more lethal tools of her occupation. She hung the robe upon the backspike of her halberd, checked the soundness of her pistol, and carefully sat down to listen to what Virginia had to say. Veta had offered the protection of the Circus, Mary that of the Vatican. Perhaps a detail in the conversation would give her greater understanding of the wants and needs of the Crypt family.

Virginia looked at Elizaveta with some curiosity, as she mentioned that she had seen something in James' eyes. She assumed that it had to be a Russian skill and just like her brother, she initially wished to understand it. Yet her concern for him dominated her psyche. What exactly did she need? She required assistance, but that in itself was vague. There were two threats to James and her family - one unknown, the Talinks being the other. Her father had sent word, instructions as to what she must do. But James could not journey with her - it would be too dangerous for him. He was a little too young to die in misadventure. "Shelter for James from those who wish to do him harm - the Talinks and whomever left the note in blood," Virginia answered. "I know that you, Dame Commander, have offered the protection of the Vatican should I name you his godmother. While he would be protected, I worry that he would lose the childhood beloved by all Crypts...That he would never learn to dance a Mamushka or play Wake the Dead on a dark night."

Elizaveta was contemplative for a moment, looking at the situation that Virginia was presenting to them. It was not a pleasant one to say the least yet she had an idea and it was rather obvious. "Then James stay vith Circus under their care. Learn the Mamushka, assign guardian over him. He be safe, he learn to dance, to twirl the blades. Have children his age to play vith, elders to look up too. Be provided for, best training, off season in the Carpathians, and see vorld vhile being protected. Crovn vill take on expenses. Ve talk to Baron Alexandrov, Vlads father."

Mary maintained her serene exterior, seemingly a permanent fixture of hers. It allowed her to keep her internal thoughts internal, much like a particularly holy poker face. This seemingly innocuous trait also gave her the unique ability to convey complex thoughts by changing the tiniest of details about her face. One such occurrence transpired when Virginia mentioned the game beloved and familiar to the Crypt family: Wake the Dead. The mild furrows occupied her forehead and her eyes narrowed as she turned her head ever so slightly toward her friend. Mary could only guess as to the nature of said game, though her acquaintance with the family led her to question whether or not it may involve talking boards and/or shovels. The Bible, as utilized by the Catholic Church, was extraordinarily fuzzy about its stance on either possibility. Whichever, both, or neither case, it would not surprise her.

"I am forced to concede that the Russian Grand Circus would be a more appropriate fit for the young Viscount, even from what little I have witnessed during my limited time here. I do not believe that this place is safer than Vatican City, though I do not believe that any place is. There is also the stark truth that one must arrive there first to be put within its protection." Mary knew that lesson better than most. Her journey to the seat of Catholic power was soaked in blood and she barely made it there alive, alone in a strange land where she did not yet know the language. "Be that as it may, I do wish to have a hand in ensuring James's safety. Perhaps something can be established on his behalf with the meeting tonight. Otherwise, I can state that the resources of the Church here in London are at his disposal, and that my sword is pledged to his defense. His enemies, dead and living, are my enemies."

Virginia considered Elizaveta's offer carefully. From what she had been told, her family once had been close with the Russian Circus or the Crown. With this being the case, she imagined what she would wish for her own child, as well as what her mother and father would recommend. While James showed some interest in Catholicism, it was mostly centered on the Inquisition. With the Russian Circus, he could learn the dance with immense family importance to them. The death defying ways of the Circus would suit him well, nurturing the little pyrotechnic in one of their crafts.

And above all else, he would be safe and secure. He could wade into the darkness on his own terms once he was ready. Virginia finally nodded. As much as she did not wish to leave her brother, to take him with her on her upcoming journey would be too much. "I think James would be quite happy here at the Circus," Virginia agreed. "I can send word to Alfred to prepare his things - as well as my copy of our family records, so that way he may remember and honor his history." The choice was hardly easy on Virginia and it showed. In many ways, her voice was tired and drained. "We Crypts are not without means as well - please, do allow me to make a donation to the Circus. Were my father here, I am certain he would thank you both from the bottom of his heart to the top of his skull. I must thank you for being willing to offer protection to dear James."

"Then ve vill speak to the Baron as soon as we are done here and before ve have to deal vith the Graveolase this evening. Everything will be arranged and we can vork out details at that time," she said wanting to get through as much as possible as quickly as possible. Elizaveta was not one to dawdle once something was settled. "On to next point of business. Myself and others in Circus have had visions. It is part of Russian skill knovn as Tretiy Glaz. From vhat ve can piece together, your friend Miss Wyndham is in dire trouble. Ve knov not vhat everything means but there is pain, suffering, symbols of marriage, and Scotland. After speaking with Mary and her informing me of some customs in this part of the vorld, it has been concluded she is most likely being forced to The Green? Is that right?" Elizaveta asked Mary to confirm what she had heard and if she had the name correct.

Mary nodded in agreement before responding vocally. "Yes, Grand Duchess. If the visions are interpreted correctly, the most logical place they would be headed is a township called Gretna Green, called "The Green" by many familiar with it. Laws concerning marriage differ in Scotland, but are upheld by the Crown here in England. Gretna Green is notorious for couples eloping, or who desire legal marriage without the wait and scrutiny associated with British Commonlaw." She shook her head gravely, "There are those who exploit this for their own agenda, and marriages at knifepoint, figurative and literal, can occur."

Virginia was afraid of this, yet rather than her blood turning to ice, it instead began to boil - figuratively speaking, of course. It had been a while since any Crypt claimed that their blood had boiled - and if Virginia's memory served her correctly, it had been a particularly insane one, even by Crypt standards. From Elizaveta's and Mary's descriptions, the situation for Millicent was more dire than had initially appeared. Lord Rutherford must have forcibly taken her to Gretna Green, just after a night of tragedy for many of the ton - Millicent included. "Then we must act quickly. From what I have gathered, she had accepted the courtship of Lord Rutherford, one of the most vile men in England. She has a significant dowry and it is possible that after a marriage at knifepoint, her throat may be slit - or perhaps her spirit broken. To rescue her from such unneeded sorrow and suffering, travel must begin tonight."



Beatrice Decker


Location: in a TANK
Skills: None At This Time

Beatrice nodded at Lola's offer of "condolences." She wasn't sure if there was anything that she could really say. All of her friends were dead - there was no chance that Tiffany had survived the destruction of Newnan. She doubted anyone could've survived that. Once this job ended, she'd likely move on until she found a new group of people that she could trust. The tank was nice and all, but it was constricting as well and prevented her from using her unique skill set.

"This world doesn't care about right and wrong - it never did," Beatrice said quietly. She understood Gavin's ranger gusto, his feeling that the good deserved to live and the bad deserved hellfire. But things never were really that way, even before the outbreak. Justice systems were not blind and they were hardly just. There was poverty and hunger, despite there being enough food and resources for everyone. Nothing was ever fair. The universe did as the universe did and nothing would change that. Lady Luck didn't care who you were or what you had done - if the good died and the bad lived, that was just the way things were.

"You can fight for justice and righteousness," Beatrice conceded, her eyes darting towards Gavin. "But I'm here for vengeance, pure and simple. I'm not on the side of heaven or hell - and I wouldn't want to be on either."




@Nallore@Witch Cat@FantasyChic@BlueSky44@RoccanIronclad@Peridot
December 28th, 2016 - 8:56 P.M. EST - 0 Days Since Hel Returned


Main Tent - Cirque Anomaly, Coventry, Massachussetts...

Seraphina's healing of herself is successful, with the wound of her vessel closing up. However, the human soul that once coexisted inside the vessel with her had already gone to heaven. It had been a fatal wound. Partnered with Daniyal's healing spell, all of the damage done was gone. Her vessel was in perfect condition. Cecily was still unconscious, yet otherwise, she was relatively healthy. Such a large use of her powers had just been too much for her.

"Fuck...It won't budge," Darren grunted. He was stuck as well and as much as he tried, he just couldn't get himself free. With Cecily unconscious, it'd be up to Daniyal and Seraphina to help Millicent and Darren. The sooner that was done, the better. Otherwise, there may be unforeseen medical consequences...

Lobby - Coventry Horrors Hotel, Coventry, Massachussetts...

During the walk away from Cirque Anomaly and towards the Coventry Horrors, the cell phones and other electronics returned to life. The interference seemed to have died down - possibly because Time was no longer quite so broken, perhaps since Hel had fled, or maybe even the others had defeated Fenrir.

"Right," Fairfax said. "Lovely to meet you all - though not under the best circumstances." The doors to the lobby were unlocked, allowing them to enter freely. Andromeda must not have locked up before her death. Ushering them inside, Fairfax watched as Folly went inside and looked around, taking in the somewhat tacky decorations. Sal Aldrich had been a big fan of all things Halloween. She then turned towards Lilith, as if waiting for her to come up with a plan.

Cedar Creek Pub - Aurora, Colorado...

It's a little before seven in the evening in Colorado. For many, this is a time to join with family and consume a hearty meal. Yet for some, those wanderers and drifters, they find themselves drawn to the streets. With the sun starting to set, the soft neon glow of the various pubs beckon them to come in from the cold. Christmas decorations are still up. They won't go down for another few days, when it's time to decorate for New Years.

Cedar Creek Pub isn't the most respectable establishment, but it isn't the worst. It tends to be a mixture, but on this night, it's almost uncomfortably empty. Well, aside for suit sitting in the corner. When Walt enters the pub, the suit raises a hand, gesturing for him to come join him in the booth.

"We just got word from Washington. We need you to come in."

St. Septima's Veterinary Hospital - Clearwater, Florida...

Just a few days after Christmas, St. Septima's is quiet. That does not mean that it is calm by any means. Those coming in with their pets are facing difficult decisions - is their pet in too much pain? Is surgery worth it, despite the possibility for complications? What will they tell their children - and how will they deal with the potential for loss? There is pain and tension in the air, but there is also something that only Jessica can hear - "Angel Radio."

Hel has escaped. Angels, disperse. Find her location.

Abandoned Warehouse - Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania...

"Of course I have the money. What do you take me for?" Scarlett asked, quite clearly seething. Rather than touch the box instantly, Scarlett reached into her bag and pulled on a pair of silk gloves. Various runes and symbols were embroidered onto them, presumably as a protective measure. She then opened her purse and showed its contents to Anthony - the thick wads of cash constituting his exact fee.

"Open the box," Scarlett then requested.

O.M.E.N. Headquarters - Washington D.C...

Irwin and Cornish both made their way off stage, heading through a pair of double doors and down a hallway. It was the direction to what some fondly referred to as the Panic Room. Lined with salt and other protective sigils, it allowed O.M.E.N. leadership to feel safe and secure as they discussed the elimination of all necromantics, good and evil. It also doubled as one of the few safe places where they could meet with the Consultant.

Irwin hesitated, glancing back at Cornish who was busy arguing with someone on the phone. He let out a sigh and crossed his arms. "You have one minute - go. Evans, I need you to go get the Consultant." Other agents were already beginning their various missions. More than a few teams across the world had been mobilized in order to bring in assets. They needed the man power.

FBI Mobile Office - Ashland, Wisconsin...

It's been a bit of a slow day - worryingly so. Murphy hasn't reported in as scheduled, something entirely unlike the man. He had been scheduled to speak with a potential witness, Edwina Fairfax, earlier that day. Yet he appeared to have dropped off the grid entirely. To make matters worse, it wasn't long before another governmental agency called - O.M.E.N. - to inform Murphy's supervisor that he was likely dead. They didn't offer much information, practically just informing the office and then hanging up.

"Something big must be going down," one of the agents commented. "Never seen O.M.E.N. this flustered."

Jade Cornish

Location: Road Outside of Coventry
Interacting With: Rupert Cornish, MP


Jade had been the one to phone Rupert Cornish in the middle of the press conference. Once she had gotten herself out of the wreckage and assessed her physical condition, she had attempted to get in contact with anyone she could. For far longer than she liked, her phone had been zero help at all. At one point, she then heard what sounded like quinjet engines, only to run towards where the noise had been and find no one. She was without backup and without transportation -

Needless to say, she was pissed.

"I better get some fucking time off on a goddamn beach or something after this," Jade warned her uncle as soon as he had picked up. It might have been her eleventh time trying to call him - she had lost count. "Agents Keenan and Decker are down. FBI Agent Murphy has been unresponsive. Look, this shit is bigger than we thought."

"I know."

"Whatever is causing all of this, it's going to bite us in the ass if we don't take care of it."

"I know."

"Then do something about it," Jade growled.

"We're trying - we've brought in the Consultant. Irwin is reaching out to anyone he can think of that may be able to help now."

Robin Ramírez

Location: Room 307 - Hunter Hotel, Omaha, Nebraska
Interacting With: Mariana Garcia @Nallore


In Nebraska, it's nearing eight o'clock in the evening. The humidity was down from its high in the morning, but it was still palpable. The clouds were low in the sky and the sun had already long since set. The cousins had been staying in the suitably named Hunter Hotel for the past week while working a case. There had been reports of ordinary, successful citizens becoming homicidal murderers - a sign of demonic activity. Earlier that day, they had finally finished with the last one and were now enjoying a well deserved night off.

"1¿Escuchaste eso, prima?" Robin said, slowly sliding off the bed and grabbing a crossbow. Another knock, harder and louder this time, sounded on the door. Robin carefully put a bolt in her bow, nodding towards Mariana. "2¿Crees que nos perdimos uno?" she then whispered.

The knocking ceased for a moment. Robin stared at the door handle, watching with a bit of dread as it began to turn. Someone was coming in to see them, whether they liked it or not. The main question was who? Or perhaps, even better, what?
@Peridot Looked over him. Had some caffeine, got the brain running. Looks good to me - feel free to move him over.
@Nallore Could you give the character a look over and all? Just landed in Boston and it’ll take all of my energy just to write the update - which I can try to include him in
I'll be posting tomorrow - thinking I'll write it up on the plane and then post once I land. Will be bringing in @RoccanIronclad's new character and officially starting chapter four! If your counter is on day 5 or higher because of the delay, let me know and I'll give you extra time.


Nora Kingston


Location: Streets of Cairo -> Governorate (E/F 10)
Skills: Deduction, Intuition

To say that Nora was stunned would be an understatement. She had long ago given up on finding any satisfaction in her life, as she and this world were never quite meant to be. She disliked her brother's wife, Fannie, for continuing to fight a battle that Nora had long ago written off as futile and pointless. When she was a little girl, she had been told she was too sick and frail - that she would not live to see another Christmas holiday. And as she grew older, despite studying mathematics and earning her certificate, the world had already written her off. Society had dictated that she should marry and have children that she physically could not bear.

Nora had written off society in turn. In the last twenty four hours, more people had affirmed her intelligence and her worth than had done so in the last twenty seven odd years of her life. Peter's kind and elaborate words moved her. A bit of water welled up in her eyes and she blinked it away, yet not without one or two tears escaping. "Thank you, Peter," Nora said, uncertain as to how else to convey the emotions coursing through her. Perhaps she had been premature to resign herself to becoming a complete outcast one day - perhaps there were those who would accept her for who she was.

Drying her eyes, Nora closed the distance between them and the other pair with Peter, some of his words still rattling through her head. She wasn't certain what to make of Vera's birth in the second cycle of Bastet. For a moment, a thought occurred to her - what if Vera was the Bastet that she was supposedly supposed to protect? Neema had told her that the Bastet would reveal themselves. She wished that the kind woman was here, so that way she could inquire as to whether or not Vera was the person Neema spoke of. Perhaps it would be useful to record the signs of each individual brought into this mystery. With Vera's insistence that she would not even consider such thinking, Nora didn't dare raise the subject. She would entertain this theory to herself, until she may personally disprove it.

She still wished for a logical explanation for everything - something grounded in scientific and mathematic principles. Yet perhaps these were simply principles she did not yet understand, she mused. Gravity existed even before Newton realized its presence, after all.


Nancy Parker


Location: Ville au Camp: Main House (Room 202)
Skills: Acting, the Cards

Nancy noticed the brief look of bewilderment across Giouse's face, and as she dived into the mind of the imaginary Ashley Windshire, she considered how she'd react to such an occurrence. How would a rebel from the 'Verse react to that expression on the face of an old man? Well, not that it was fair for her to think of Giouse as old - he was only a few centuries older than she was. Yet that was only counting consciousness, of course, and if any Emendator had earned the title of Old Man, it was Gilbert. He was an elder to them all, having been conscious for at least ten more centuries.

"You find my accent funny? I don't need this gorram dram," Nancy scowled. "Reckon you're Alliance, ain't ya? Or Core at least - talkin' all fine and polished like that."

She folded her arms, pacing a little bit before pausing as the questions began. What was her favorite food as a child and had it changed? Only lies had detail, so Nancy elected to keep her answer simple as she continued to improvise as Ashley. "Strawberries - 'cause they were sweet. And as I got older, it got harder and harder to get fresh berries out in the 'Verse. Made them all the more special a treat."

Nancy was about to continue when she felt a tingle in the tips of her fingers. It was different than what she felt when she gained consciousness, yet similar in a strange way. Sometimes she imagined that she felt the tingle in different areas - perhaps a scratch on her back, a bit of restless energy in her legs. But more often than not, it was always the same - a tingle in her fingertips. "Pause," Nancy said, losing the 'Verse accent and readopting her assumed New York accent. She sat down on the ground cross legged, pulling out her deck of cards. While she could do readings standing, just really needing a flat surface to use, she always liked to sit on the ground with her legs cross. It was one rare bit of routine that the chaotic Emendator enjoyed.

"Got to check the cards," the Cards explained. It wasn't a passing whim or fancy - it was instinctual. And quite possibly, the main thing that would ruin the illusion that she was a new Paradox, unless they passed off her need to do readings as a Paradox's new found abilities.
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