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PostPosted: January 24th, 2011, 10:02 pm 
Lady of Strife
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(Is there room for one more?)

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PostPosted: January 25th, 2011, 1:28 am 
Tolkien Scholar
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Of course we do!

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PostPosted: January 25th, 2011, 8:28 pm 
Lady of Strife
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Name: Hunter Miller
Personality: a slightly sadistic punk rocker artist. Been known to be called 'odd' or 'a little crazy'. Very outgoing, and a little hyperactive. Very friendly to everyone, perhaps too friendly(but that goes with her job), even though she doesn't have very many close friends.
Appearance: http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g111/ ... Hayley.jpg
Your "Talents": The ability to manipulate the tattoos on her body, changing adding, and taking away at will, as well as making the tattoos on her body become real.
Previous Human Occupation: Tattoo artist
Residence: Beverly Hills, California, USA

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PostPosted: January 27th, 2011, 10:50 pm 
Vala
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"Welcome to Toronto"

That was what the sign said. It was just a flash of blue and white as Emily drove by it and into Ontario's capital

Well, there was no going back now.

Most of the nerves that had so terrified Emily were gone. They had slowly dissipated with the long, dull hours spent driving, and the last few jarring quakes of fear were suppressed after she sang herself hoarse to her driving mix CD. The insane terror seemed oddly distant, like it had happened weeks, not hours ago. Sure, she was still a bit frightened, and a few random bouts of fear would pop through occasionally, but the mind numbing panic had been replaced with nothing but a bit of ill ease. She had made it through that scary doorway.

But now where to? She was in Toronto, but where exactly in Toronto did she want to go? Emily glanced at her fuel gauge. It was half full, more than enough gas to drive around aimlessly, hoping to find something that would spark her interest.


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PostPosted: January 28th, 2011, 7:36 pm 
Lady of Strife
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"You can't quit on me now!" the heavy man said, crossing large arms over a barrel of a chest. Hunter didn't like to stereotype people, because most times they really didn't fit the stereotype. But this guy, all the way around, was your cliche biker. Breaded beard, ratstail, tattoos, leather, peircings, even down to the harley parked in the back.

"Sure I can, and I am," Hunter said with a very optimistic smile. "I've only been working here three years, its not like you're loosing anyone important."

"You're my best artist. I swear most of the clients come in and ask for you. I loose half of them if you quit."

"Sorry, nothing I can do!" the redhead shrugged, and with one last smile, left the small hole-in-the-wall tattoo parlor. She had to leave, or at least, had the very big urge to leave. And to Toronto Canada of all places.

But then again that urge came with the strangest things. New memories, or more of old, real memories that came back to her, and a power. Well, it didn't surprised her when she got the glove tattoo on her hand to change from a winged wolf to a rose bush creeping up her fingers. And then when the petals actually came out and fell to the ground?

"It was EPIC!" Hunter sang to herself quite loudly as she slid into the seat of her beat up old Ford that had horrible gas miliage. But luckily she had enough money in savings to get her to Canada without the use of a planes.

Oh how much she hated planes. She always got sick on them. But oh well, it was time for a nice long drive. She had already packed before letting her boss know she was leaving. For good...

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PostPosted: February 6th, 2011, 4:17 am 
Maia
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'Name: Rose Belikova. Aged: 19. Birthplace: Vancouver, Canada. Birthplace of Parents: Moscow, Russia. Siblings: 1, aged 15, a boy. Current Residence: Derry City, Northern Ireland.

Why Rose...do you repeat this to yourself? It's not like you haven't lost anything. You're way too lonely for your own good. You need friends. REAL friends. Not that you don't have friends but I highly doubt that any of your Irish friends will be patiently waiting when you return. They WILL have changed. You know that. Even HE will be changed. He will be different. You will be different. You will not fit in like you did when you started living there.'


Rose kept her head semi-down as she inline-skated down the path that she assumed led to the nearest library to her hotel.


Rose had no clue what she was doing.

Well.

Not yet.

For now, she guessed, she was just going to have to wander.


She really had to stop feeling down. Hence her 'attempt' to head down to the nearest library, but for the fact that she was currently no where near her destination. She had left her current best friend Conor in Ireland.

His response: 'What in the WORLD have you done. The first thing I did the morning you left was text you and it says it doesn't connect, only to find out you have left for Toronto, Canada. What HAVE you done? You didn't tell me ANYTHING! Anyways. Contact me as soon as you have time. Loads of Love, Conor. P.S. I'll be waiting.'


Last edited by Nienna of Rohan on February 11th, 2011, 4:11 am, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: February 10th, 2011, 12:27 pm 
Tolkien Scholar
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"Miss Bennett, we will be landing momentarily," called the pilot through the intercom.

"Merci," Olivia said before rubbing her eyes that had been strained reading the new set of files that her director sent to her. Her commands were as followed: organise and brief a team of highly qualified individuals. Then go to Port Daytona to investigate. This in spite of the fact that Interpol had led three separate investigation of the town and at least ten of the American law enforcement agencies had investigated it. Looks like she wasn't joking about the Americans. She powered her electronic pad to a sleep state just in time to brace herself for the landing. Once the plane had ceased moving, she moved from sitting passively in a plane to sitting passively in a car driven by a chauffeur who simply said he was sent by someone expecting her. Obviously that someone knew where she had to go as the chauffeur immediately began driving without her instructions. She hoped that he was going to drive him to a dark alley somewhere in Toronto.

Instead however he drove her to an elaborate and fancy hotel named the John Dresden's Hotel. As soon as the chauffeur opened her door to let her in, a well-dressed man descended down from the main entrances and greeted, "Good morning, Miss Bennett. We've been expecting you. Please follow me." She frowned slightly before she was escorted through the lobby of the hotel, to the elevator which brought her to the fifth floor. Then she was led through hallways and corridors to a conference room, large enough to hold ten people. There was a small table to the side that held a silver tray of breakfast pastries as well as a couple of coffee pots.

The man simply bowed his head at her before leaving abruptly and without a word. She frowned again. She really didn't like this. For one, it was far too secretive. Even for her organisation. To relieve herself from the sense of foreboding building in her, she helped herself to a cup of coffee, pouring the rich dark liquid from afar. As she summoned the cup towards her, she restored her pad back to a functioning state and to her surprise, another e-mail from the director had came for her. This time it contained the personal files of her team.

....To say she was disappointed was a gross understatement. The first person on her list was an equestrian trainer. Unless she was going to be instructing a mounted division, Olivia failed to see how she could be useful. The list only got better and better. There was an English convict, a murderer no less. She began to wonder if this was an elaborate prank on her. But even as she fumed, she glanced at the cup floating in the air and wondered if they were chosen simply because of their abilities. Well, that was an absurd idea. Even if only one per-cent of the human race possessed abilities, chances are at least nine of those individuals would be involved in some sort of law enforcement. Or in some field that would be useful in this field.

<center>------------------------------</center>

"Please hold..." the receptionist said, before picking up her phone to make a call and forcing Gabriel to wait yet another minute longer. He impatiently tapped his newly acquired sword cane against his shoulder. Just how much longer are they going to make him wait. This hotel was supposed to be one of the best ones in Toronto and of course Gabriel was not going to stoop down anything below the best.

Finally a man in a rather pretty suit came out and said, "I'm sorry to keep you waiting. We've been expecting me. Please follow me." Now to someone like Gabriel, a triple murderer, the phrase "we've been expecting you" did not exactly mean good news to him. Especially when followed "please follow me". He kept a tight grip on the handle of his cane and wondered if now wasn't the right time to unsheathe it and stab the man. He could easily mask it with an illusion and no one would be the wiser. But for whatever reason, probably his accursed subconscious compulsion, he followed the man.

He ended up in a conference room where a lovely little blonde woman was pursuing through an electronic pad of some sort. He turned out to ask the man in the suit what was going on when he suddenly disappeared, leaving him alone with this woman. For a while, the woman ignored him, content in reading whatever it was on the pad. Eventually though, she glanced up and asked, "Who are you?" He wondered if he should give her his real name or use one of the hundreds of alias he had when she said, "Never mind, you must be Gabriel Clark."

He asked, "What makes you think that?"

"Never mind that," she said quickly. "It appears you're the first person to arrive aside from myself. I think it's best we wait until more people arrive."

More people...what is this? Some sort of carnival? With this French girl in charge? *beep* to that, he thought. He moved to the door and tried the doorknob when to his subdued surprise, it was locked. He glared back at the girl as if it was her fault that he was stuck here and not busy terrorising some Canadian couple somewhere. This was going to be fun, he thought miserably, as he returned to the conference table and took a seat. One furthest away from the French girl.

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PostPosted: February 11th, 2011, 4:19 pm 
Lady of Strife
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Was hitch hiking illegal in Canada? Hunter wondered as she stood on the side of the highway holding out her thumb. After one of the longest drives in her life, the stupid truck's radiator burst a mere 20 miles from Toronto.

"Just my luck," Hunter hummed to herself, her backpack of stuff slung over her shoulder as she held out her thumb, walking away from the now useless truck. "I really home hitch hiking isn't illegal here."

Just then a black car pulled over. The kind you saw secret service guys drive in movies. And what do you know, a man in a suit got out of the driver's seat.
"Hunter Miller?" he inquired.
"Who's askin?" Hunter replied, a bit suspicious of how he knew who she was.
"We've been looking for you. Please, come with me," he motioned for her to take the back seat.
"Are you heading to Toronto?" The man nodded at her question. "Alright, sounds good to me."

Now, you'd think Hunter would have listened to her mom and said no to an offered ride from a complete stranger, but she decided she could make an exception just once. If a chauffeur was going your way, offering a ride, and even knew your name... that usually somebody important wanted to see you. And why not go when you were allowed to indulge in the fine liquor in the back seat cooler.

It wasn't long of a drive before the car stopped infront of the fanciest hotels in town where said driver opened the door for Hunter, who was met by another black suit.
"Please, follow me miss Miller," he said, and led the way through the hotel to a conference room, and curtly left.

Hunter glanced around. There were only two other people there. A woman who looked engrossed in her pad thing, and a good lookin guy who looked like he had better things to do. After a glanced at the closed door behind her, Hunter when and sat next to the guy, who wasn't exactly giving friendly looks.
"Hi, I'm Hunter. And I'm guessing you have no idea why you're here, just like me."

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PostPosted: February 11th, 2011, 5:21 pm 
Maia
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It was then that Rose looked up to find herself in front of a hotel. The John Dresden's Hotel to be exact. Now what in the world was she doing here? Frowning, she looked around. This was no where near her hotel. No where NEAR. And the library she had intended to go to was no where to be seen.

So what was she doing here? What had drawn her HERE of all places?

'No time. Be depressed. Turn away. You have other things to worry about than inanimate objects that scream your name. You have yet to respond to Conor.'

Yes, she knew she had to respond to Conor. She had to respond to everybody, her readers, her parents, her teachers in Ireland and in Canada. At least the plane ride was okay. A bit bumpy maybe, but other than that it was fine.

With a sigh, she looked up at the hotel sign...and thought of her dog.

'And why does the first thing that comes to mind is my dog Plaxy? My blessed Siberian Husky Plaxy? Explorer of the Galaxy she was.'

Rose smiled and stepped inside, 'See? No harm done.'

"Hi, are you Rose Belikova?"

Rose let her gaze slide over a man in a black suit. He asked again, "Are you Rose Belikova?"

Eyes narrowing, she responded hesitantly, "...yes...? What do you want?"

"Please follow me Miss Belikova."

With a deep breath, Rose slowly inline skated her way after him to a conference room where there were gathered, 2 women and 1 man. The man looked bored and as if he wished he were somewhere else. The woman next to him was making an attempt at small conversation. It didn't look like it was working. The other woman looked way too busy to talk.

Rose swallowed her uneasiness, settled at the nearest table and took out a notebook and a pencil.


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PostPosted: February 20th, 2011, 8:32 pm 
Vala
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Emily knew she was going to turn at the next intersection, even though she didn't know what was down the road. It was that funny, unshakable feeling again, telling her to do things without question. As she turned the corner a wave of excitement tingled up her spine. She knew her destination was coming up, the same way you can feel the heaviness in the air on a cloudy day and know its going to rain. She just didn't know what she was even looking for.

The answer hit her light a lightning bolt. John Dresden's Hotel. The place looked fancy and out of her price range, but still she drove into the lot, and with a deep, steeling breath, got out of the car and walked into the hotel lobby. She glanced around, almost as if expecting something to pop out at her, but the room was silent and unoccupied. Uncertainly she walked up to the front desk. She was about to ring the bell and ask for service when a man tapped her on the shoulder. She jerked in surprise, and turned to look at him.

"Are you Emily Collins?" He asked.

Emily nodded slowly. What else was there to do? The old Emily probably would have ignored him, and made her way quickly to the girls bathroom. But now she had a crazy new, superhero ability, and an undeniable urge to drive up to Toronto. She quit her job and left her friends for this. A complete stranger knowing her name didn't phase her at this point.

"Follow me then, miss" He said, and started walking down a hallway. Emily followed, keeping pace with his quick,brisk steps

He led her to a small conference room and opened the door to let her in. It closed behind her with a faint click. Three women and one man were seated around the conference table. They looked to be from wildly different backgrounds. She smiled nervously and managed to utter a small "hi" in greeting before she sat down.She had no idea what was going on or what to expect. She was rather hoping that someone would come in and explain everything soon so she could just be on her way.


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