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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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Pronouns: They/he

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In The Horrors of Coventry - Concluded → 8 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@Nallore@Witch Cat@FantasyChic@BlueSky44@RoccanIronclad@Peridot
December 28th, 2016 - 9:09 P.M. EST - 0 Days Since Hel Returned
Main Tent - Cirque Anomaly, Coventry, Massachussetts...

There is one caveat, however, that will likely strike Seraphina. Everyone who traveled through time is dead on December 28th, 2016. With knowledge of their deaths and of what the future appears to be, sending them back in time could cause even more damage to the timeline. Yet they cannot stay here - they need to be sent back. The solution will become obvious to her. Not only will she need to send them back in time, but she'll need to erase the events of December 28th, 2016 from their minds. They can never know that they traveled through time.

"September 1st, 2013," Darren replied. "It was...late at night. Black outside," Darren recalled. Fortunately, with Seraphina's chronokinesis, she could sense when and where they had come from. She didn't need them to remember it at all. He accepted her hand, pulling himself to his feet.

Cecily slowly came to as Darren worked his healing spell on her. "Th...Thanks...What'd I miss?" she said wearily. She blinked, before looking a bit shocked as she saw the gigantic carcass of Fenrir. "Did...Did I do that?"

"More or less," Darren replied with a chuckle. "Listen, kid, I know you're a witch. But we'll fight this battle when it's our time to do so - but now, I bet we're sure as hell not helping things. Might be even making them worse. We shouldn't be here."


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

The first spirit that drifted forward was Mallory Coyne. She had a plain and simple beauty to her, with sharp eyes and evenly pinned back brown hair. Her dress was not too flashy, allowing her to effectively blend into the middle class. In her hand, there was the ghostly outline of a journal. When she spoke, her voice was rich with an Irish brogue. "If I could 'elp yer as I 'elped Lincoln, I assure yer I would. Yet I 'av foun' dat libraries always 'av gran' wisdom ter behold..."

Her image shimmered slightly, before Tobias Fairfax was called forward. His face could not be made out. He was blackened and charred, having died from being burned alive. He looked at Lilith with uncertainty, before turning his attention to Folly and Fairfax. They were his descendants after all. "Indubitably, I am inclined to offer you aid, seeing as it is in the best interest of my own legacy and lineage. Ho! But beyond whispers in the veil, all I may say is that Hel is not the first of her kind by any means - and nor will she be the last. Others will come to aid her in the cause - the cause of the Aesir."

Lastly, Lyle Corandel came forward. He was clad in denim on denim, with a Pink Floyd t-shirt on. He was, sadly, rather young. He grinned at Lilith widely, for some strange reason. "Now, I ain't encountered Hel before...But if anyone knows anything, it's Fergus. He blew through here a few years back, possessed by a demon. Haven't seen him since. But get this...that demon? It was the king of hell. He's got to know something, beautiful."

Cedar Creek Pub - Aurora, Colorado...

"Your truck will be transported separately, Mr. Grismer. The Norse god case - well, you're in luck. The urgent matter that superseded that investigation was another one. A goddess this time and one that we feel is more powerful. As for the Grigori - it will be waiting for you in Washington," the suit answered. He buttoned up his jacket before heading out of the pub, expecting Walt to follow him. They had a plane to catch.

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

It's probably for the best that Jessica prepared that sigil. As she ducks down in her car, the rearview mirror lets her see a group of five quickly approaching the hospital. They're dressed in grey suits with practically matching, monotone like facial expressions. All they needed was a sign that said: HEY, WE'RE ANGELS! and it would have been the most obvious sight ever. Her angel sigil will banish them, but that's no reason to assume that more won't show up eventually. Better make a plan - and quickly.

Abandoned Warehouse - Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania...

Scarlett isn't calming down, no matter what Anthony is saying. If he was just selling cursed items to O.M.E.N., that would be one thing. But according to her spell, O.M.E.N. had the item that Anthony was trying to sell her. Had he sold it to them and given them the information they'd need to take Scarlett into custody? "Don't you fucking DARE try anything," Scarlett screamed, throwing her hand out, just as Anthony tried to grab his gun. His wrist broke - well, shattered is probably a little more accurate.

"Have fun in hell, asshole," Scarlett threatened, before twisting her hand to the side. Anthony's neck snapped cleanly a second later, leaving the witch alone in the abandoned warehouse in Pennsylvania.
Fergus
Location: O.M.E.N. Secure Prisoner Facility - O.M.E.N Headquarters - Washington D.C.
Interacting With: Rita Evans @Witch Cat (also @FantasyChic)
Irwin guided Bronwyn down the remainder of the hallway, entering what was fondly known as the panic room. It had sigils transcribed on it, with a healthy lining of salt and iron all around. The hope was that nothing demonic would ever be able to enter and wipe out O.M.E.N.'s senior leadership in one fell swoop. At the front of the room, two chairs were empty. Name placards indicated them to belong to the sitting heads of O.M.E.N. - Samuel and Dean Winchester. Some dust had accumulated on the plaques, and Irwin took a seat directly to the right of them.

"Any word from our operative, Cornish?" Irwin asked.

The MP from earlier nodded, still speaking on the phone with someone. "She's heading to Salem. She'll catch the train to Boston and from there take the next plane to D.C."

Meanwhile, several floors downwards, Fergus let out a hearty chuckle. He slowly rose to his feet, stalking his way over to the door so that way he could get a good look at the agent. In his opinion, she was a little small to be working for O.M.E.N. But after a moment, it came to him. She had to have something special about her - otherwise, he figured, she'd have been stuck behind a desk processing paperwork.

"Hunter, witch, or deviant? Which is it?" Fergus asked. "C'mon, tell me. Victim of possession?"
Robin Ramírez
Location: Room 307 - Hunter Hotel, Omaha, Nebraska
Interacting With: Aloise Zamora, Mariana Garcia @Nallore
Robin hesitated as Mariana set her weapon down. In her mind, just because Aloise knew Russel didn't mean she could be trusted. However, she did seem to be telling the truth. She lowered her crossbow, but she didn't let go of it - just in case things went bad. She had already lost too much family to the supernatural. She vowed to hunt it - and to protect the family she had left.

"What if I told you we could get back everyone we had ever lost?" Aloise began, as she took a seat on one of the cheap motel chairs. "Hunters, family, friends...We're dying every day. We're not changing the tide, however. Hell spits out more and more demons every day. Angels take their grudge matches to Earth - you saw what happened in Altsoba."

Robin raised an eyebrow. She had heard people talk like this wistfully - but they never actually had a solution. And even if there was something out there that could help with that, she doubted it was anything good. "Lucifer was killed at Altsoba. And while O.M.E.N. is by no means perfect, we have more people hunting today than we did before."

"I know. I was there - I was in Altsoba. And it was awful. We didn't win or save the day. We got lucky. What if next time we're not that lucky?" Aloise argued. She looked down at her hands for a moment. "I'm sure you know of the Aesir."

"They're extinct," Robin countered.

"One survived - and I think she can help us change the tide. We can win the war. Instead of just avenging our loved ones...we can protect them," Aloise explained. A tear slid down her face. "It's getting worse - you know it is. Incidents are increasing at a rate we just can't keep up with. We might not be able to stop the next Altsoba if we don't act now."

"What...What exactly are you proposing?" Robin asked warily.

"We take them both out - Heaven and Hell. This Aesir is strong, but she needs our help. With the demons and the angels gone...We'll be able to have peace. We can change the tide. If we kill enough vampires, eventually, there won't be any. Instead of just dealing with the symptoms, we'll be able to deal with the problem itself."

"We can do more than just shut the gates of hell - we could drop an atomic bomb on the entire dimension."
In 🦄 Darker Than Black - Merged With T.S. → 8 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Cecily Ashworth
Location: La Hacienda - Monterrey, Nuevo Leon, Mexico
Skills: Constitution, Deduction
Despite the fact that she was leaving his home, Cecily held no ill will towards Caesar. In fact, she considered him to be a friend. But she couldn't deny that Natasha was right - that most of her involvement and the supposed danger was circumstantial. Additionally, her argument that she'd rather read a comic about a two badass women (well, Natasha was badass. Cecily wasn't certain if she herself qualified) than one about a federale and a forensic technician. Both of them were interesting - but it was 2017. It was about time for some female protagonists.

She made a note to let Caesar know when she got back into the United States, as well as likely switching out her phone for a new one. While Natasha may have lessened her paranoia some, it hadn't completely vanished. "Road trips are fun," Cecily said, trying to keep the mood light. "I could also call and see if my parents have any connections down here, if we need them..."

Yeah, that would've been a great conversation. Hi Mom, hi Dad! Still disappointed in me for making life a little harder to high powered criminal defense attorneys like yourself? Great! I need a car and a hotel in Mexico, no questions asked. She hoped that Natasha wouldn't take her up on her offer. She only spoke with her parents on holidays, much preferring the company of her maternal grandmother. Grandma Kingston wasn't a greedy shark, after all.

Cecily froze for a moment. The word shark had somehow brought something to her mind. Hadn't there been another death where the corpse had been found under water? Lorna and Alicia weren't the only ones. The cause of death was different, as the victim had been burned, but it was discovered in a marsh. From what she recalled, the body had been transferred to MS. Her eyes were wide and her heart sped up a little more, as she realized she was onto something.

"Probably the wrong place and time, but I've just realized something," Cecily said quickly. "Alicia and Lorna were found underwater - but there was another victim I remember hearing about, Kelley Breeden. She was found in a marsh. If we could get lung fluids and run a test for comparison...Maybe we'll be one step closer to finding out who our mystery culprit is."

"And I could be wrong, but I think the body was transferred and released to Machete Security Services. There has to be a connection there."
In X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽 → 8 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Guinevere Stark
Location: Brotherhood Headquarters - First Sublevel - New York, New York
{"They told me I couldn't so I did."}
Guin slowly opened up her eyes, her head pounding like a war drum. While she hadn't been in peak physical shape before, relying on the caffeinated rush provided by energy drinks to keep her functioning, the self inflicted damage from the nightmare was taking its toll on her. She reached up to put pressure on her head, as if that would take away the headache. When she removed her hand and looked at it, it was smeared with blood.

Guin blinked wearily, barely able to focus on the red spandex clad hero. Deadpool?! She didn't get a chance to ask him why he was here - and if he would help them - before he vanished. As far as she was aware, the merc with a mouth didn't have that sort of power. She wasn't a medical expert, but she figured that there was a pretty high chance she had a concussion - especially as she proceeded to vomit.

"Are you ok? You don't look too good."

Guin glanced up, wiping off her mouth as best as she could when the gush of wind announced Pietro's arrival. Finally. The others were awake and she could hear Marygold, but the pounding headache was largely overwhelming her senses. She still hadn't left her position on the floor, afraid that if she tried to stand, she'd only vomit again. "I think I have a concussion...I just saw fucking Deadpool...Haven't seen him since I was 10."

"Last I checked, Deadpool is off somewhere else, away from here. You probably just imagined him or something. I can get you out of here real quick if you want, though I don't know how the speed would effect you with a concussion."

Guin shook her head, although she instantly regretted that motion. She nearly vomited again, clenching her hands into fists as her knuckles turned white. She didn't know how long they had been unconscious for, but she knew they probably didn't have much time left. She glanced down at her phone, since Deadpool had unceremoniously dropped it on the ground when he vanished. It had been twenty minutes, meaning they only had about forty minutes left. It could have been worse, but it left them too close for comfort.

"No, we need to get the job done. Can you get us all down a few levels?" Guin explained, staggering to her feet.

"Well, there isn't any stairs unfortunately down to the bottom floor. You have to take the elevator. I can probably find it and take you there at least."

She nodded, pushing herself to work through the killer headache. When this was all over - if this could all be over... - she'd probably ask to be dropped off at Stark Tower. She didn't feel like she'd be in any shape for a ride back to Upstate New York like this. "Gotcha. And Pietro, if I collapse and this all goes to shit, and I die from this virus..." She hesitated for a moment, her cheeks burning bright red.

"Well, you know. What Leia said to Han."

He's silent for a moment, before pulling Guin into a quick kiss. He then rushed off before she could even fully comprehend what had happened, coming back after a few seconds. "I found the elevator, it isn't too far. This place has a really weird layout. A lot of stairs, and a lot of elevators, all of which go to the same place."

Guin was bright red, trying her best to focus on anything but 1) her headache and 2) her insanely hot boyfriend. "Right. That's fun. Which way?" Pietro, of course, was grinning widely. It only made her blush even more prominent and extreme.

"Take a left down this hallway, and straight all the way to the end, you can't miss it," Quicksilver explained.

"Thanks. Rock on, Silver Balls," Guin added playfully. She elicited a small smile from the speedster before he rushed off again, leaving her alone in the hallway with Carolina, Allison, and Marygold. She turned to the trio of mutants, trying her best to hide the obvious blush on her face. "So, erm, let's head left then?" Guin said, a bit awkwardly. "There's an elevator, should be able to take us down to the labs."
In 🦄 After Miranda - A Firefly Rp - Season 1 (Completed) → 8 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Dr. Pender and Dr. Townsley
Location: Lady Luck: Table Main Room
Skills: None
Fitz didn't quite follow Anisa's logic as to why he was prohibited from being hired onto the ship. She had fired - and almost killed - Daphne over what she had said. Yet Fitz himself hadn't done anything. In fact, the most he had done was quietly hyperventilate on his side of the table. But at the same time, this didn't seem like a battle worth arguing over. He was surprisingly calm about this. There'd be other ships, either in need of an engineer or accepting passengers. "Y-you don't have to do this," Fitz said to Jackie. "I-I can find another ship looking f-for an engineer or p-p-passengers."

The waitress brought over his Shepherd's Pie, shortly after setting down Dorothy's hum bao plate and sweet douhua. "Th-this can't be the only ship with vacancies, right?" Fitz added. And he couldn't help but imagine other ships would have a bit more of a stable crew than this one seemed to have.

Dorothy, however, nearly spat out her drink as she heard Anisa offer a job to the woman who snuck on board their ship. Come to think of it, a lot of Anisa's hiring decisions had been...questionable lately. There were the additions from the Alliance vessel that had attempted to kill them. And now, the intruder was getting offered a job. Sure, they were low on people and needed the manpower after the hits they had taken, but could any of them be trusted?

"...I-I'd rather not have my balls crushed..." Fitz whispered to Jackie.

"I need some air," Dorothy finally said. She hadn't touched her food, but she had already lost most of her appetite. And as much as she loved cards, everything that had transpired in the past few minutes had driven her narrowly close to a breakdown. She glanced towards Anisa, silently asking her if she'd be fine if Dorothy stepped outside for a few minutes. She knew that Anisa was hurting and if she needed her to stay, she'd do so. Otherwise, Dorothy felt she needed a few minutes to clear her head and comprehend everything that had happened since they went to Whitefall.

And as she saw Foy and Jahoasafat approach the table, she felt equally certain that getting some air would be a good thing. It was hard to tolerate those two when they were sober - imagine how obnoxious they'd be buzzed.
In Strange New Waters - Concluded → 8 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@mnkee: Day 6!
@BlueSky44: Day 5!
In X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽 → 8 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@Peridot: Day 7!
In The Horrors of Coventry - Concluded → 8 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@Peridot: Day 6. Please get a post in soon, since this is driving everyone's counters up...
In The Wolves of Red Lake (Completed) → 8 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Jenna Westbrook
Location: Silver Mine --> Town Center
Jenna couldn't exactly claim she was surprised that Finley didn't consider the possibility that Declan had killed the mayor. It was for the same reason that detectives rarely suspected their partners on cases, even if there were clear signs of potential involvement. Friendship created implicit trust, it created positive feelings and a willingness to overlook it. But Jenna couldn't allow herself to do that, even as she saw the clear pain and anger from Declan. She had to consider each and every possibility. She needed the facts, regardless as to how she felt about the other people involved.

Biased investigations were doomed to fail. Finley should have known that. "You want to talk about how fucked up this friendship is?" Jenna asked, raising an eyebrow. "How about the fact that you've had a crush on me for ages and still do, even while dating a girl named Jenna?"

"And as for you risking your life for me - thanks. But you also forget that you have given us zero information on what's true about werewolves. Everything I know indicates that werewolves are mindless beasts when they transform, hurting anything in their path. Fucking Remus Lupin couldn't even fight that." She huffed slightly, watching as Declan marched off. She didn't expect sympathy or understanding from Finley. She pulled out her phone, typing in replies to her missed messages, as well as sending off one to her brother, Kosara, and the FBI agent.

"Look, you can go to the café if you want to...I want to go take a look at that crime scene. I need to figure out what exactly is going on, beyond a Satanic cult."

To Liv:
I'm fine. Busy. -J

To Jason:
I'm so fucking down with this goddamn town. Wish you were home. -J

To Kosara:
1) Abe needs to get a fucking phone already. 2) Can I spend the night at your guys' place? Got some hypotheticals to discuss... -J

To Jeanna:
Tomorrow - Can you help me find my birth father? I can't find any records on him. -J
In Rise of the Evos → 8 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Isley & Scott


Date: Monday, August 19th -9:10am
Location: Seattle, 3.14 and Other Yummy Things
Interacting with: Each Other



The man's voice on the other side of counter brought Isley back to reality. "H-hi, sorry," she said, trying to focus her thoughts. "What would you like?" suddenly there was an onset of rain that sent the patrons outside scurrying inside, offering enough distraction for Isley to shake off the woman's face. The customer rattled off some uninteresting order. As she turned to pull the item out of the case, she nearly ran into another man standing next to her.

"'Excuses me'" she said off handedly, earning her a funny look from the patron, as well as her coworker, Emma. It was only after the customer was sent on his merry way that Isley got the chance to really look at the man she had almost walked right into.

He was older, maybe late 30's, early 40's, and had a distinct look of out of placeness behind the bar. Not only was it the lack of uniform (green shirt, baseball cap) but he look distinctly unhappy to be there. Not the face of a person used to working in customer service.

"Ah--" Said Isley awkwardly, "Sir, are you...supposed to be back here?" she said, earning another concerned look from Emma.

To say that Scott looked out of place behind the counter was an understatement. He wore combat boots and a sturdy pair of black pants, partnered with a grey shirt and leather jacket. The fluorescent lighting revealed the glint of dog tags around his neck. However, an eagle eyed observer would have noticed the numerous holsters he had on him - several of which contained guns. And while this was alarming, it could have been far worse. Scott didn't have his pride and joy, Peach, slung over his shoulder. He hadn't brought his shotgun with him to the detective's apartment.

"What the hell of a question is that?" Scott said with a bit of an amused snort. His eyes glanced around his surroundings. A second ago, he had accidentally knocked someone's boxers all over the staircase. It wasn't his fault, naturally. They should have been watching where they were going. And now, it seemed the exit of Jade's apartment building had transported him to a...bakery? coffee shop? Yeah, something like that. "Who do I have to kill to get some decent customer service around here?" Scott quipped.

He then sized up Isley. The situation was bewildering and for Scott, humor was the best defense mechanism. It helped him to keep his edges nice and grizzled. She looked to be in her late twenties - about a decade older than his own daughter. He frowned for a moment, remembering his dream from the night before and the events detailed on the radio. He needed to make a call - but a thought then struck him. He had already developed telekinesis. Maybe he had gained some sort of future sight and something was going to happen to this waitress in a pie shop.

"You're not going to get chopped in half, are you? Gore is fine but...keep it creative, alright, kid?"

"Sir-" Started Isley before being cut off by Emma.

"Isles...Who are you talking to?"She said, in a quick, biting whisper.

It was nearly impossible for Emma not to see the man. He was standing right in front of her. In fact, the man's much larger figure nearly covered the entire form of the much smaller girl. There was no way she couldn't see him. Isley felt like a flow of ice water was rushing down her spine, a faint ringing in her ear and realization dawned on her.

Either Emma was messing with her (unlikely)...Or...

"Bathroom, cover me please," she said quickly, walk-running to the single occupancy room near the corner. Slamming the door shut behind her. She kept her eyes to the floor as she went to the sink, turning on the cold water and splashing her face full of it. Pressing the palms of her hand over her eyes she said "I don't suppose there is any chance you won't be here when I open my eyes?"

Scott watched as Isley ran off to the bathroom in the corner. He raised his arm, staring at it as if marionette strings would pull him towards her. It seemed that his powers and abilities stopped at perversion. Dropping his arm, Scott nodded at Emma, despite the fact that she couldn't seem to see him. But this girl could - it reminded him of the way the murder victim had stared at him in what he now believed may have been a vision. "You wouldn't happen to have a phone I could borrow?" Scott asked, mostly rhetorically. The waitress couldn't hear him.

The only one that could was barricaded in the bathroom and from his experience with women, he did not want to head in there.

Taking a deep breath, Isley opened her eyes and looked around the bathroom-- half expecting to see the strange, gun wielding man standing around her. When he wasn't anywhere to be seen, she let out a breath she didn't know he had been holding. She turned the water off in the stink. "See? Nothing. You are fine," she took another deep breath before opening the bathroom door. Only to see the man standing near Emma, asking for a phone, although it was clear that Emma heard nothing.

Maybe...he is a ghost? Maybe I'm seeing dead people now.

Scott waved at Isley, tapping his foot. While this was a fantastic and fun new power, it was also quickly boring him. The dream from before had had a decent captivating motivation. But for now, unless the bakery was about to burn down because of a skittish waitress, nothing interesting was happening. It was one of the lamest visions in the history of lame visions. "You gonna run off again, princess?" Scott asked.

Isley cast a sideways glance, checking to make sure that her coworker was busy enough to not notice her talking to, what must have look liked, empty air. "Look, I understand that this must be really scary for you. I can't imagine what it must be like to die,"It felt like a bitter lie on her lips. But this man didn't need to know about what she had experienced last night. Thunder rattle off outside. "But I want to help. I don't think I'll be much help. But I'll do whatever I can to help you pass on. Or like help you find closure. Except if it involves killing someone...I can't help you with that " She took a deep breath. "What's your name?"

There was a very good chance that she'd freak out about talking to a ghost later. But it really wasn't the most unusual thing to happen to her lately.

Scott had to bite back a chuckle, but it didn't stop the amusement from showing on his face. Unless the kid carrying the laundry had pulled a gun on him, he wasn't dead. In his line of work, it wasn't random people in apartments that shot you - it was either current clients, former clients, or future clients. Besides, the guy looked like he was struggling just with the clothing. He doubted he'd be able to hold a glock without falling over. But on the other hand, he sensed there was a healthy amount of denial when it came to this girl.

"Scott Jones," he said. He didn't feel like coaching the girl on how to say Rydzynski. Not very many people were capable of it that hadn't come from an Eastern European country. "If you really want to help me pass on, buy a case of beers," Scott began, before instructing Isley on where to send it to -- the address he gave her just so happened to be for his apartment. "Good stuff - none of that Budweiser shit."

And then, channeling one of his favorite movies, he got a mischievous glint in his eye. He loved Beetlejuice. "And you have to marry me, so that way I can leave limbo."

Isley let out a little sigh, giving another fleeting glance around the shop. "And what would a ghost need beer for?"While her voice kept its 'customer service' pep, there was a clear undertone of being done with his facetious attitude."Look, I was just trying help. But- I need to get back to work, so if you could just poof off, that would be great,"

Scott rolled his eyes. He assumed that his outlandish requests would have tipped the girl off to the fact that he wasn't a ghost. He was a flesh and blood - well, not currently anyways - human being just like her. The only difference was, someone was about to murder her. Given last night's vision, it was going to be gruesome...and apparently happen in a bakery? He hated cake for a reason. This only made him feel more validated by that.

"Listen, sweetheart, I'm not Casper the Friendly Fucking Ghost," Scott explained with a bit of a sigh. "I'm a psychic - I think. And someone is going to come and slice you down the middle any second now. Nothing I can do about it, I can just watch. Y'hear about the girl in Philly? Yeah, I watched her die. So...good luck?"

At that, Isley froze, this was. So...fucked up. Her first thought was that she was now facing that poor girls murder. But... There was another flash of lightening as the storm seemed to intensify. "Psychic? So you are projecting yourself into my brain?" Then, another much darker thought crossed into her mind. " Wait are you the reason I've been seeing those fucking shadows. And last night? Why would you make me watch something like that? Is this some kind of sick game to you?" She realized that she was now talking much louder than a whisper and quickly yank out her phone. Holding it to her ear. Just because she might be going crazy, doesn't mean she had to look like it. "What do you want?"
In 🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1 → 8 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Beatrice Decker
Location: in a TANK
Skills: None At This Time
Beatrice had to disagree with Gavin. If someone died in her arms, and she didn't know them previously before their death, they remained a stranger. The fact that she happened to be there during their final moments was the luck of the draw. She had spent a fair amount of time on the streets of Justice. People were killed all the time - sometimes on purpose, sometimes almost entirely randomly in her opinion. And even if she watched the light go out of their eyes, she didn't know them. She only knew the corpse, the shell of who they once were. It was like the walkers - even if she put one down, she didn't know the person they once were. It was all just echoes, mimicking life, at that point.

"Is that an expression or do you still believe there's a god, after all this?" Beatrice asked. It wasn't her belittling him - she was genuinely curious. She had never been a religious person herself. She wouldn't even say she qualified as spiritual. But if even with the living hell that the planet had turned into, someone could keep their faith - that was impressive. It took strength. Of course, she wasn't focusing completely on Gavin - part of her was trying to tune out Lola's screeching. With the sound amplified inside the tank, she was 87% certain that she'd have a headache before they hit Eden. It was like being stuck with one of the weird kids in a foster home, but knowing it was just a bit too soon to ditch the place and run off again.

"Sounds like a plan, Master Blaster," Beatrice replied curtly, mostly glad that the singing seemed to have stopped for the moment. She was insane, but she had heart. Beatrice could appreciate that. She then glanced over at Gavin, noticing how he was picking at his knuckles. Those scabs didn't form from giving a walker a beating - not that anyone these days would. It was risky. If there was anything she respected about Gavin, it was that he stuck to his guns. He didn't sway from his moral compass.

"Guess that makes you Mad Max, cowboy."
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