#event:002

[wmu-cedes]

@wmucody

Think sprinkle is an understatement

Like you'd fully know.

[narcissxs]

“The least they could do is open up on time. What do you think this is all about? It’s not a coincidence that we’re all here.”

@worstnemesis​

[poseidxnsfury]

“Benefits of hosting the party, I get to sit next to the most beautiful woman here.” He grinned over at her, chair placed closely next to hers. 

@hedonesdesire​

[msmelissalin]

@mobscene-starters​

Distain was the forefront of Melissa Lin’s expression as pursed lips accompined with an arched brow took in the scene before her, a hum under her breath as she chuckles lightly, although not humurous, instead dripping with the clear hatred for those that she was currently around. The French; her nose wrinkles as she sees a few of the more well known. Of course, it was always fun to see those she called family and friends get to watch the demise of their common enemy. 

But this was not what she’d prepared for, and this didn’t look good; especially for their leader to walk away as the losing man. She was a sore loser, it was a fact.

For god sake Johnathon, she thought as she shook her head, straightening the bottom of her jacket. Maybe if they’d trained her, she could have gone in --- she was vicious but clever, that was the difference that made Melissa Lin the woman that she was. It wasn’t always about being aggressive, it was about outsmarting their opponents, looking for the weak spots and exploting them as much as they could. 

The best thing about human nature was that there was always something they cared for, Melissa had learnt that early on. It was why she was so cold and calculated; because it fitted best for her to rise in the areas she wanted, a woman usually had to work harder to climb a ladder that could often be so fickle. 

‘‘Where is Johnathon?’‘ She grumbles, now complete disinterest had taken over her, looking down at her nails. ‘‘I don’t care what kind of shape he is in, I need to see him and I want to discuss what the hell just happened in that ring...’‘ Her voice trailed off, waving her hand half heartedly in the air. 

‘‘We better not lose again tonight-’‘ She mutters to herself.

[sage-adler]

location: the open range booth, holiday market. status: closed for @asherfranklin​

Fingertips grazed one treat, then another, trying to find the perfect stocking stuffer for Springsteen. In all honesty, the large dog would eat almost anything Sage offered him - including tissues accidentally left on a tabletop. So to place so much effort into choosing between chicken and gravy flavored or sweet potato seemed to be a moot point, but besides her sister who was brave enough to accompany her on this task, Springsteen was all she really had and she always went out of her way to spoil him rotten. Finally, she sighed and picked up both oversized dog biscuits before moving onto the bagged treats, the scarf wrapped around her neck paired with the winter coat she donned causing an uncomfortable warmth to build around her body and while a few minutes ago she found comfort in the heated reprieve of the booth, she now found herself longing for the winter chill just outside. “Thanks for tagging along tonight, Ash,” Sage began, turning to glance at her sister before eyeing the dog treats again. “I know I haven’t been around much. Between my shifts at the bar and Christmas shopping... things have been chaotic, to say the least. And I think I’m coming down with something? I don’t know, it’s probably just allergies. You know how they like to show up at the most inconvenient times.” She let out a soft laugh and shook her head, picking up a bag of barley treats before handing them to the employee at the makeshift counter-table. 

[behindsanityrp]

CHAPTER II: CONCLUSION

Time is growing tired of your inadequacy - we thought you would have known more by now. Careful with your ignorance, darling, for the city will soon start asking you to pay for what you do not have to give. 

[chvshre]

Interlude II

DATE/TIME: 09/12 AM 5:05 LOCATION: Houndstitch Church

He is among the many who watch as faith burns this hour before dawn, yet another callous outsider indifferent to the brilliance of the flame and the aftermath it might bring forth, here for one thing and one thing alone: a good show. What other reason can there be for waking so early? To bear witness to disaster? No. To enjoy the dramatics of an unfolding downfall that will ask nothing of the present spectators except their rapt attention.

How many more skeletons will be added to the mausoleum under the city by day’s end—the one with an unknowable family name carved into cracking marble, impossibly old and clumsy in how syllables sit on the tongue—where the roots of a forest long since made skeletal are reaching through the ceiling and walls. Not enough, that much he knows for certain even without counting empty coffins. 

it will never be enough to fill the void left behind from being left behind. how quickly they all abandoned what once was for the promise of a newer, shinier tomorrow.

tell me, do the dead still ache?

Sirens wail, distant still but closing in steady, the final layer to a symphony-in-composition, and he takes his cue to melt back into the shadows, a feat made laughably easy by the demons dancing on hallowed hollowed grounds. There’s someone he needs to see.

DATE/TIME: 09/12 AM 6:11 LOCATION: White Rabbit

Funny how disapproving the Hare is of his Rabbit’s attachment to a Cat, yet here he is, running towards the same pitfall without a second thought. And all for what? He watches Ashley rush out the door, grin angled somewhere between bemusement and disappointment as the barely-risen sun paints the man a lost boy again.

“Suppose he’ll have to learn the hard way like everyone else.”

The jar’s abandoned contents bubble once in agreement.

DATE/TIME: 09/13 AM 1:00 LOCATION: Houndstitch Church

There is something to be said for the conveniences of technology, digital archives a wealth of information stored out of sight, out of mind, until such time comes that demands they spill their guts. If you asked the twins, this is the only reliable source of intel worth considering in this modern era where word-of-mouth and printed pages are becoming a relic of past days.

Which is exactly why he does not ask them for help when he returns to the scene of the crime. For all their cleverness with words in the world of data, the pair are hardly more helpful than the carcass of a fly when it comes to physically getting their hands dirty. A pity really, but no matter, he has other uses for them.

The filing cabinets are monstrous beasts of iron nearly as tall as him, dented and blackened by their recent ordeal through fire, but still perfectly intact and happy to yield their secrets to anyone who knows what they are looking for. Fortunately, he does. Names and pictures fly past in quick succession under the practiced shuffling of long fingers, records of births and adoptions and unfortunate accidents best not mentioned all piled into neat, orderly stacks.

His face threatens to split with the force of his smile at what he finds—or rather, what he doesn’t—and the implications this confirmation carry. Winter comes and children go, such is the nature of the world, and who would think to look for the ones that fall through the cracks of a system designed to be faulty? Twenty missing faces without names to match are hardly headline-worthy news anymore in this city, far from being the first of their kind, but that only makes things easier for him.

The papers disappear with him.

DATE/TIME: 09/13 AM 1:45 LOCATION: Under

[ FROM: CAT ] Make a deal with me. [ FROM: DEE ] We’re listening.

[ FROM: CAT ] I need you to look into the complete history of someone, going as far back as you can. Leave nothing out, no matter how trivial or nonsensical you might think it to be. In exchange, I’ll give you the church’s orphan records, and I’ll tell you everything I know about ASCENSION. [ FROM: DUM ] Interesting. And whose dirty laundry are we digging through for you?

[ FROM: CAT ] Mine. [ FROM: DEE ] Deal. We’ll let you know when we’re ready for you.

[drlingdoll]

FOR: @dreamgvrls​ DATE/TIME: 09/15 AM 1:00 LOCATION: Under alleyway

“Come on, what is taking them so long to move?”

Patience is a virtue they say, and virtue is a grace. Unfortunately, he’s always been a graceless thing crawling, so waiting has never come easy, especially when it matters most. Time at the Dollhouse, learning to sneak out and about behind security’s turned back, has taught him better in two years than nineteen years of existence had prior to his fall, but it remains a struggle to ignore that itch urging him to run.

“They were supposed to change shifts a minute ago, why aren’t they clearing out?“ he shifts where they’re hiding, tucked into the corner behind a large potted fern. It’s a bulky piece of plain ceramic that looks like it’s barely containing the greenery over-spilling from the top, and easily big enough to conceal two small figures looking to avoid notice. “I swear if they don’t start—oh! Finally!”

The little side-street that the Dollhouse back door opens up into stands blissfully empty—only for a few seconds at most, just until the next guard makes his way over, but it is a window of opportunity he won’t let slip. Grabbing Klara by the hand, he practically yanks her down the stairs and around the corner.

“Let’s go!”

There is a familiarity to these twisted alleyways they race through that he doesn’t want to think about, a reality following too closely on the heels of that revelation: Under is slowly becoming his new home. He hasn’t given up on the surface world yet.

Eventually, he slows, turning to grin at his accomplice, original reason for this mission temporarily forgotten as the adrenaline rushes. “Well! How do you feel? Jail-break is pretty exciting eh?”