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| How Do You Know When You're Missing? (R); *Closed* | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Aug 20 2009, 05:33 PM (88 Views) | |
| Emma Lancaster | Aug 20 2009, 05:33 PM Post #1 |
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Emma’s knee was bouncing as she watched her counterpart, awaiting a response from him. She was high energy, high strung and certainly the product of her indoctrination of the company she’d always worked for. Tapelle scoped out all the sixth graders going into Eastern and would hand pick a few to fund with the mindset that later, because of his generosity to such an expensive and prestigious school, they would come to work for him. Emma didn’t know anyone who didn’t and she had been in the heart of those select few years before. She was, what he called, a visionary. To the rest of the world who might actually get to know her that translated to mostly insane with a few sprinkles of straight up off the wall. However, she could also present a professional demeanor if necessary. Most times though she refrained from meeting with strangers to avoid having to play nice with the locals. She would make appearances for the press in her best fashion forward suits but most of the time she stayed on the top floor of the T Corp building and did business through a portable ‘desktop computer’ and the fancy thing that Tapelle had gotten access to for them call the ‘information super highway’. Emma didn’t like all that technology, but she’d send an electronic mail or two back and forth to her boss if he felt like being spunky enough to play with it and then would call her or her assistant director and tell them excitedly (as if a kid in a candy store) to check their computer mail, but he’d said a magic note later because the stuff in the electronic mail was just for shits and giggles. For all the magical medical advancement the fact that he was amused by something as simple as a computer of fax machine made Emma laugh like a hyinea. “Come on Murph!! What’s the story?!” She exclaimed. “Oh piss it! Give her to me.” She pushed him out of the way kneeling down next to the dark haired girl who lie unconscious and sprawled out in the office. She pushed the bangs back off from her face. She had a scar on her cheek that was obviously permanent to Emma as she was a magical doctor by trade, first and foremost. It had been treated by a skilled hand and yet still left a scar. “Magic.” She pressed her finger in the girl’s face so it dimpled under the pressure right where the scar was. “Where’d she come from again?” Emma looked curiously over at Murphy. “I’m getting Andie up here.” She said pointing at the secretary through the glass window before she bolted forward and pulled the door open. “And tell her to bring the scanner and some of her components – a vial of volzke syrum – oh and one of those little bottles of Starbucks coffee chilled…the mocha one.” She said with a wide grin before she turned back to Murphy. “You scanned her right? You said she’s a T Corp employee? You’re sure you were reading it right? Let me see…” she, like a bouncy child, sprang around behind the big desk that had her name plate on but was rarely used. She went to fidgeting with the drawers and pulled out a small string of pouches. “I say we throw her in testing labs – she might be an escapee.” She told him with a firm nod before slipping back around the table. “A lab rat; as it were.” She bent down and sprinkled some blue dust over her and mumbled a few words waiting for some sort of reaction. |
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| Murphy Callahan | Aug 25 2009, 02:29 AM Post #2 |
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“I am thinking that place on twenty-seventh with the noodles and the creamy white sauce is our best bet. Oh no, no.” Murphy shook his head swiftly, reaching up and running his finger tips across his forehead as a lopsided, calm grin crossed over his face. “Nix that idea and we’ll go for pizza instead—what’s the name of that place with the extra small pepperonis? We should—” Murphy looked up, his eyes having been trained on the girl absentmindedly, and he caught Emma’s eye and his grin grew wider but no less relaxed. He knew Emma well—in fact, there was no one else he knew better than he knew Emma. It was hard to predict her ways, as they were just that, unpredictable. She was the epitome of insanity and he worked well with her less than logical ways. Their boss, the big man that lived some hundreds of miles away, was no different than she was and made Emma look quite well adjusted. Murphy was entirely on the other spectrum; he wasn’t necessarily sane because there was rarely a member of T-Corp’s staff that was as high up as he was and still retained a majority of their sanity. Tapelle adored quirks and he adored people with character and challenge—those that followed the rules and were strict with their moral compass never made it pass the first few floors. Murphy’s moral compass was skewed simply because what felt right meant it was right—as far as he was concerned. He worked more off feeling than he did logic and it worked well for his position. HE was calm by nature, liked to laugh and smile more than he liked to play the game of business. He didn’t often wear shoes around the office building, unless it was a matter of extreme importance that he did. Tapelle, though insane, prided himself on the fancy and beautiful clothing he wore and the business presence he had. Therefore his employees had to uphold it too. But right then Murphy’s feet were bare against the soft carpet of the lush office and his clothes were a little wrinkly as he hadn’t put those ones up for his assistant to dry clean. He looked unkempt, a little unruly by nature because of his wolf tendencies and the shorts he had on certainly didn’t fit the freezing weather outside. He’d much rather be off on some white, sandy beach than he would in the heart of Manhattan but he loved this place all the same. “The story? Thought I told you the story—did I forget? Damn it, I do that too much huh, Em? Oh hey no—no!” He shook his head, holding his hand out flat as if to stop her talking. “The sandwich shop—you know the one, right? I could go for one of their Reubens right now. We should go after this whole shin-dig is over.” He waved before them, gesturing to where the woman lay on the ground. “Magic?” He repeated, peering curiously over her shoulder. He wasn’t a doctor and that which had brought him to T-Corp was not his magical skill as much as it was what he was. Werewolves were of interest to Tapelle, just as fae were, because they were different than him and therefore interesting and fun. Murphy didn’t mind it—it gave him a job and a place to stay at first and then eventually a lifestyle to live and he was good for that too, simply going with what life gave him. “She came from nowhere—well that is not true. Apparently she wandered into the ER earlier this morning and no one noticed she was there until the lobby was empty and the cute nurse with the nice ear lobes walked by enough times to recognize her. But when they asked where she came from, she didn’t know. Left her alone for a second, came back and she was like this on the hospital bed. Poor girl—is she hurt bad?” He asked seriously, the first time in the last few moments he had any seriousness about him. Murphy gave her a small glance as she jumped up and moved towards the desks. “No, no—the tests don’t read rat numbers. Ya know? All end in a seven-three-seven-eight? She’s got a slew of ‘em that I’ve never seen before…she’s not ours but she is. Maybe Tapelle was a little quirky when he set her up—played a game and decided to pull out numbered, any old numbers, and slap ‘em on one of his kind. She looks like a ‘Corp’er” He said, reaching out and ruffling up her dark hair. It was the fact that she didn’t look stiff and lifeless, though unconscious just then, that made her T-Corp material. “I say we monitor her special—let’s not get the labs into this just yet. Let’s not make it news that we’ve got a chicka on our hands that we haven’t a clue who she is. Not good for business—if she doesn’t register right again on the scanner when Andie gets up here. If its still all bonkers and can’t read a damn thing in her number series, we put her up here, wait until she wakes and poke and prod until she talks. Because I’m thinking she’s got a hell of a lot to say…and we’re gonna listen. The lab rats are smart, yeah—we make ‘em that way. But not smart enough to scramble our numbers…how the hell is she?” |
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| Andie Stone | Aug 25 2009, 06:58 PM Post #3 |
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"Hotter, people!" Sweat ran down her face, pooling inside her safety glasses, no amount of barrier able to hold back the torturing heat from inside the glass box. Every face was red and blistered, every eye watered from the bright blue fires but it wasn't enough. They needed more, they needed to push this container to its limit, see just how much it would take before it shattered... Why? Andie had no idea but she was not one to disobey orders. She trusted those above her that whatever they did with this container, it would be important. It would push the borders of understanding in new directions and understanding and, most importantly, it gave her the excuse to push herself and her team and to see their limits. The men and women inside were all straining, having to be switched out through the day as they continued to let the flames grow so that they didn't die from the exhaustion and dehydration. They were all a bunch of pansies if you asked her. "Come on!" She bellowed from behind her control booth, protected on all sides by the most advanced cooling technology, as the temperature inside the glass box dipped again. "You can't possibly call yourselves pyromancers!" Her fist came down on the panel in front of her and she pushed her chair away to stand. Andie ran her department like a boot camp and for good reason. This wasn't a place for carelessness but it wasn't a place to be afraid either. That was just as deadly as not paying attention, forcing them to embrace the fire within them. She heard their complaints, each protective suit the men and woman had on equipped with devices to communicate, "If this thing explodes, we're all going to die. You do realize that?" The echoing of agreements had Andie growling as she turned to one of the others there in the room. "Get me a suit." If you wanted a job done right, you had to do it herself. Once she was fastened up, her body covered in the white thick fabric, reinforced by science and magic both, she walked into the main room, the heat hitting her instantly. It took any bit of saliva from her mouth instantly. "Anyone of you that isn't a pussy can stay. If not, go but I expect you in my office at 1600." she barked, an instant scrambling heard as five of them left, leaving only Andie and two others. Nodding in either direction, she gave the orders to start, setting the fire back on its upward movement. With the last of blue turning white, she heard the voice in her helmet, turning briefly towards the small glass frame in the wall where everyone else stood. "Ms. Lancaster needs you." It took some grumblings and curses back and forth but Andie left with a promise to return, her face blistered red and her arms loaded with the items she was told to bring. She didn't even have to ask why she was called as she stepped into the room, a woman's lifeless body laying out on the table. A smirk crossed her face as she stepped forward, setting her supplies to the side and sorting them out again. "Decide to bring your lunch today, Murph?" She teased as the scanner started to calibrate, getting ready for use. |
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