scar
talk about bb with me
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Post by scar on May 24, 2017 21:39:29 GMT -5
From the Desk of Det. Marshall:
05.02.2017 The babies arrive in two hours. What was I thinking offering to oversee a team of rookies? Ones who haven't even graduated college, at that. The chief expects great things from these kids, but I expect nothing more than a headache. Fingers crossed for a peaceful summer. No murders. No thefts. No missing persons. Just paperwork and filing documents. Because that's how a detective's life works, right? You're typical office 9-to-5. - - - Welcome to "New Kids on the Block," a small group role play about a team of rookie detectives. A small group of rising seniors are given the opportunity to intern under Detective Arthur Floyd Marshall, a notable detective in New York City. After a lengthy application and interview process, the group is determined and placed and will begin their internship during the summer before the start of their senior year. During the experience, the group must put what they've learned in the classroom to use as they get to know one another, work in a team, and try to save lives. Each intern has a specific role they perform on the team in addition to the 'general' role.- - - Team Roles The Boss: The leader of the group of rookies. He 'calls the shots' and is meant to act as a mentor for the interns.
The Psych: The psychologist of the team. Specializes in understanding and predicting motives and the workings of the brain.
The Tech: The technical and computational specialist of the team. Specializes in hacking and typical computer type knowledge.
The Guns: The weapons expert of the team. Specializes in weaponry, old and new, and is gifted in both using and knowledge of weapons.
The Hands: The close combat expert of the team. Specializes in both the knowledge and performance of hand-to-hand and close combat.
The Spy: The espionage specialist of the team. Specializes in the art of 'spying', especially knowledgeable in the history and language of espionage.
The Mouth: The linguist of the team. Specializes the in understanding and speaking of languages.
The Scientist: The forensic scientist of the team. Specializes in the conducting of scientific tests and experiments.
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scar
talk about bb with me
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Post by scar on May 24, 2017 21:58:42 GMT -5
the boss 'Apollo': Arthur Floyd Marshall
The old fart of the group. Arthur is a handsome thirty two, standing at a height of about six feet even. With a muscular build, it's hard to believe the lad is a day over twenty-five, yet the years on the job have definitely aged him. Arthur's previously golden locks, styled with a nice Harvard cut, are now beginning to fade into sleek silver strands, leaving him an attractive blonde-silver in between. His square jawline is swept with lingering five o'clock shadow, and his cheeks dip into shallow dimples when he lifts his lips in a smile. Detective Marshall's eyes are an uneventful brown color.
Often described as a bit of a goof, Arthur is a funny lad. While he is certainly capable of focusing and getting down to work, his default setting is, without a doubt, playful and light-hearted. He's a conversationalist, not one to let awkward silences fill any space for long, and enjoys lightening the mood. Despite this easy-going 'tude, Arthur can be a bit of a pessimist deep down, in that his general view on the world is one of disappointment. But this does not stop the lad from believing in a better tomorrow. He is dedicated to alleviating the angst and sadness through whatever means he can. As one might have guessed with his inability to handle highly stirring situations, Mr. Arthur Marshall is not terribly in tune with his emotions. He prefers to avoid feelings as they become confusing for him, and he is often led astray or is walked over. When emotions become high, his first response is to make light of the situation through jokes or change of subject. the tech 'Skunk': Molly Abigail Reid
Standing at around five feet, three inches high, this young lass doesn't seem to pose much of a threat. With an agile, slim figure, Ms. Molly Reid appears quite dainty. Wavy dark brown locks, mahogany-laced, caress her youthful face--button nose, pinched, and all; she's the type to get carded at a bar until she's fifty. A pair of large thick-rimmed glasses balance delicately on the bridge of her nose, guarding a pair of wide, analytical brown eyes.
Don't let this gal's appearance fool you; Molly Reid is quite the opposite of a smiling little girl. Ever the crank, this twenty-one year old has a tongue as sharp as a knife. She is stuck in her ways and is the type to appreciate structure and punctuality, rarely straying from what she knows to be true--everything is either black or white, change is bad, blah blah blah. Everything has a reason, an explanation, and she yearns to find it, the intellectual being that she is. Knowledge is power and power is knowledge. It makes sense that this lass is the tech expert of the group. She shines where electronics and computers are concerned and can pick out even the subtlest of patterns or minor bug in code. While she is clearly gifted in intellectual feats, the small lass lacks in both the physical and emotional ventures. Molly is much too 'thinky' to be much use during any physical fight, and she really isn't terribly in touch with her emotions. Computers don't need emotions, so why should she? the guns 'Tirador': Elodia Lopez
Elodia is a petite and curvy Latina girl, but don't underestimate her. She might have curves but she is fit and svelte. Her skin is golden-coloured. She has a wide but sharp jawline, high and prominent cheekbones, and a beauty spot at the top of her cheekbone, below her right eye. Her eyes are amber and her hair is a deep ebony colour. This hair is wavy and falls to her shoulder blades.
Elodia has a sharp eye and a steady mind. She is a skilled shooter and has incredible control over her body, perhaps due to hours of practice at the shooting range and due to her passion for dance. She is athletic and an impressive shooter, with an extensive knowledge about guns and weapons. She is, however, weak in close-combat. She is intelligent and brave and can stand up for herself, even a little cocky sometimes, but she doesn't feel comfortable with others and avoids true confrontation when possible. She prefers to put distance between her and others. She is very analytical and isn't good with dealing with emotions. the hands 'Romeo': Rhy Kasen
Lanky and tall, Rhy stands at about 6'0 with a lean muscular build. His dark chocolate brown hair is cut somewhat shorter on the sides, the rest is unkept and curled on the top of his head, some dark strands hanging over his forehead in lose rings on rare occasion. His eyes are an enticing light brown, but some would be more likely to call them a soft honey amber in hue. When he smiles his white toothed grin, pleasant crows feet appear at each corner of his eyes. Rhy's skin is a median brown color and it is smooth aside from various scars due to training or fights. His hands are always moving and his reflexes are surprisingly fast for his height. He can often be found laughing in a carefree demeanor, a bright smile on his face and twinkle in his eye. (FC: probs Reece King)
Rhy is a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. Nobody would peg him as a detective because of his playful and carefree attitude, but he actually is quite intuitive and skilled at his job. He is good at reading people's moods and body language and he can help make others more comfortable. A pathological flirt Rhy can't help but try to charm anyone around him, which is part of why he makes friends so easily. His good mood is contagious, but so are his fits of sullenness which can come on quite suddenly. He is good natured, cocky, and enjoys teasing, but when the time calls for it he can be more serious. Truth be told, his charm and easy going nature is often a cover for anything beneath the surface he is dealing with; he has difficulty coping and prefers to burry his problems deep beneath a bright smile and cheery demeanor. He is often underestimated in the area of intelligence despite his quick problem solving ability and strategic mind. He has no knack for computers and gets frustrated easily when dealing with technology, though his athletic prowess is incredible and his fighting style is so smooth and quick people who see him fight describe it as an almost dance. He is also skilled with knives and short range weapons with decent talent for guns, but nothing outside the ordinary. the spy 'Cobra': Piper Mae Caverly
Standing at petite 4'9", Piper has a very girly look to her. Despite her petite frame, she's quite the fighter. Her muscles are strong, though you can't notice. Her skin is an olive tone, near flawless with few freckles decorating her face and body. Upon her face is a sweet, small nose, naturally beautiful eyebrows and full lips. She has a bit of hetrochromia, one of her eyes a deep- nearly black- brown, and the other is pale blue. She has soft freckles dotting her face. Onto her hair, Piper has thick, ringlet blond hair that reaches down to her back. She generally has it up in either a braided bun, or braids in general, though when she has it down she makes sure she has products in her blonde locks so they don't get frizzy.
Instead of the innocent girl most see her as, Piper is a witty, smart-mouthed snake, hence her codename as 'Cobra.' The girl was raised without a mother, and a father with no filter who taught her how to basically be a boy. She went hunting with her father, learned how to shoot and did martial arts. Though she's short and thin, Piper is quite hefty in terms of anger and wits. She's intelligent, which earned her the place of spy. She's always faked her identity, getting into tons of trouble as a young teenager and learning how to get away and trick people into thinking something she isn't. the mouth 'Parrot': Rhett Michael Tennyson
21 | male | @viridian To start, this young man is quite the looker. Standing at just under six feet tall with a trim, long-legged frame, Rhett's silhouette alone is enough to turn heads. His soft face and attractive, youthful visage keeps the eyes on him--and, to top it off, the boy's got style: he keeps his dark blond locks pushed to one side and dresses somewhat preppy, in collared shirts and fitted slacks. His mossy green eyes are the sharpest part of his look--they're a bit piercing, and somehow constantly squinting, analyzing, taking into account nearly everything in sight. Rhett walks with the natural swagger and dignity of a natural-born New Yorker (even though he can hardly call himself one, hailing from idyllic Malibu, California), holding his head high and shoulders back as he combs the city sidewalks for his next thrill. (faceclaim: Cole Sprouse)
In personality, however, Rhett couldn't be described with the same flowery, complementary jargon as his looks. To be brief, he's lazy, somewhat spoiled, judgmental, self-absorbed, terribly sarcastic, and definitely arrogant. Sure, he interviews well--every kid with as much money as he comes from knows how to flip the switch to become a dignified young gentleman when he needs to be--but he's a nightmare to be around. Perhaps the worst part of him is that he's devilishly smart and incredibly insightful, due to the nature of his major: he finds a great deal of pleasure in analyzing the subconscious actions of others, then presenting their reservations aloud. As terrible of a coworker he may be, nobody can take away the fact that he knows his stuff to a T. the scientist 'Four-Eyes': Marian Walker
Marian stands at five feet and seven inches, and has a pretty sleek and toned figure for someone who is more of an intellect than anything else. She has dark auburn-brown hair that she keeps up in a messy pencil bun while still having messy bangs that reach to her sharp jawline. She keeps this hair out of her face with simple, rimless oval glasses, to correct her nearsightedness. The glasses help frame dark brown eyes. Her skin is average, having scars from blemishes as a teenager, and is a decent tan, though it is more on the pale side of things. She is usually seen wearing collared, button down shirts with simple pants on, though she has been known to not change her clothes for days on end.
Marian is a definite bookworm and always has been since she was a child. That had always been expected of her since her parents were intellectuals as well. She isn't your typical nerd girl either, years of carrying around books have made her just as strong as the average person, if not a little more! She just happens to be relentless in getting results and making sure that they're done efficiently and correctly. Despite her passion for her work, this can lead her to be neglectful and distant with others. She puts her work above anything else, which has caused her to not have many friends. She she is known to be overly eccentric and a bit of a loony since she lacks as if social norms don't apply to her. This can make her impulsive and even a little moody at times. She hides her real emotions with cold and hard facts, and has always been taught to think rationally instead of letting her emotions get in the way.
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scar
talk about bb with me
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Post by scar on May 28, 2017 10:45:12 GMT -5
Want to Join? Please send me a private message with the role you are interested in, the name of your character and any additional information you would like me to know, and a sample of your typical role play. This can be a link or copied and pasted. While I am not looking for a novel each reply you post, I ask that you are able to provide enough details that I and the others are able to work with. Once you have the okay from me, you are welcome to start role playing. Credit Special thanks to shades, lemony snicket, viridian, and semper magis for help sorting out ideas and such! Credit for the layout and the graphics goes to me. Yippee. Credit for characters goes to respective role players. Woohoo. Credit. Credit. Credit. Yay. Please don't steal anything on this page. Thanks.
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scar
talk about bb with me
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Post by scar on May 28, 2017 12:22:29 GMT -5
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scar
talk about bb with me
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Post by scar on May 29, 2017 17:22:47 GMT -5
officially open and will begin working on a starter
tagging ppl to alert y'all of this momentous occasion ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ shades dou ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ @viridian
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Post by Rivermagic on May 29, 2017 17:31:08 GMT -5
(Hmm, mind if I try claiming "The Hands"??)
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scar
talk about bb with me
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Post by scar on May 29, 2017 18:16:47 GMT -5
Rivermagic unfortunately that position is already claimed
yo yo yo, lemony snicket will post the starter after dinner lemme know if you have anything you want on the front page
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Post by Rivermagic on May 29, 2017 18:25:03 GMT -5
(Then can I claim the scientist please?)
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Post by Deleted on May 29, 2017 18:34:56 GMT -5
what up what uuuup. working on my character now.
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scar
talk about bb with me
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Post by scar on May 29, 2017 20:37:25 GMT -5
Molly Abigail Reid
"If anyone touches my computer, I'll kill 'em." tuesday, may 2, 2017 9:14am
Beep. Beep. Beep. BEEP BEEP BEEP.A hand shot out from under a pile of blankets and pillows, patting around the side table before finally hitting its mark. Be- As the incessant beeping died away, the nimble hand fell away from the clock, dropping to hang limply next to the bed. The owner of the hand began to shift beneath the covers, pushing pillows from the mattress to fall lightly without more than a soft thud on the floor. As the person beneath the blankets continued to move about, the lump, rather potato-like, edged closer and closer to the limits of the bed. It was only a matter of seconds before- thump. The shape flopped onto the hardwood flooring. " Ouch..." a voice drifted out from the collection of blankets now gathered in a heap on the floor. After a moment of silence and stillness, the pile began to move once more and the blankets were tossed to the side, revealing a slim lass, hair fanned out in a messy crown around her head. " What time..." Her eyes blinked open slowly, and a hand raised to shield her murky gaze from the harsh rays of sunlight drifting through the window. Sleep clouded the muddy brown, mixing into a whirl of sludgy enervation, as the lass still wasn't quite awake and aware. As she began to come to her senses, a lazy hand reached up from the pile of blankets to retrieve the phone that perched precariously on the side table at her head. Just to check her noti- " OH, POOPSICLES." The dark-haired lass shot up, almond eyes widening as she stared at the dimly lit phone screen. It was 9:15 already? She had exactly 45 minutes to get her little booty out of bed, dressed, and to the station for her first day as a detective, or, well, an intern. Now in panic mode, she hopped up, dark brown tresses flying up with her, and began to flit about the room with a new determination, sleep officially ridden from her gaze. It took her only a few moments to throw on a relatively presentable-looking outfit and dance out the door. Before she could near the door to her apartment, a soft whine reached her ears, and the slim twenty-one year old turned to find a massive black pup at her feet. " Sorry, bud, I almost forgot to fill your bowl, huh?" Setting down her keys and phone on the counter, she swiveled around to grab the dog bowl at the end of the counter. The figure danced around the small kitchen area quickly, pouring some chilled, filtered water from the refrigerator into the dish before setting it back down on a placemat on the floor. " That'll do for a bit, right, Chester?" When the fluffy pup moved to drink from the bowl, she offered him a parting smile before shuffling through the door. - - - 9:50am. She had made it with ten minutes to spare. Thank the lord there hadn't been any police officers on her way to the station or she would have been late rather than early. Pushing the door to the slate gray bug closed, she turned and stared at the large building before her. Alright. I can do this. Taking a deep breath, the raven haired lass shuffled onward and into the building. It was now or never. It took a few minutes before the twenty-one year old found where she was meant to go. Upon her arrival in some random room, a tall lad nodded his head in greeting. " Molly Reid, I presume?" sorry, this got kinda poopy toward the end i picked up writing after dinner and couldn't get back into the rhythm lol
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Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on May 29, 2017 20:54:33 GMT -5
I'll have my guy done soon I'm eating really quick then I'll start my post ^^
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Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on May 29, 2017 22:25:01 GMT -5
Finished my character!
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Post by Deleted on May 30, 2017 0:39:46 GMT -5
rhett micheal tennyson. "Hurry up with my goddamn latte. I've got places to be." tuesday, may 2 7:47 a.m. The usual clatter of kitchenware and plates in the room just below his bedroom woke him up on that fateful morning, and because of it, Rhett roused from his sleep with a fantastic scowl on his face. They're prolly makin' another terrible BuzzFeed frittata. End my life. His roommates were perhaps the least considerate people on planet Earth (this morning was an exception to their usual rudeness, though, since it was precisely 7:47 a.m. when the other two boys decided to tackle this recipe), possibly even more than he was, so naturally, their brownstone was constantly noisy with bickering and activity alike. It was a chaotic place, but retained a certain amount of charm to it--more so the antique building and furniture than the actual inhabitants.
Despite being woken up earlier than his alarm, the young man didn't bother to try and catch another thirteen minutes of sleep. He rolled out of bed, muttering empty promises of skinning the other two boys alive as he stalked to their shared bathroom, and took a hot shower. The blond considered stepping out after fifteen minutes, that is, until he heard muffled shouts from downstairs to "Get the hell out a' there, Rhett--we'll have no hot water left!", so, he stayed in another five minutes to spite them. After changing into one of his usual outfits--a neatly pressed button-down and cuffed slacks--he trotted happily downstairs.
"Sorry, fellas. Had to shave my legs." He flashed a cold smirk at the two crowded around the kitchen island. "Y'know. First day of work n' all, had to be prepared."
One of their eyes widened. "Christ, man, that was today? Sorr--"
Rhett cut him off sharply. "Yeah, I told you last night, but no--someone was too busy snapping that Columbia girl to pay me any attention. And she's not into you at all, by the way." He shrugged. "But that's 'aight. Just risk me losin' something I really need for my resume because I didn't get any sleep."
The two exchanged guilty expressions and muttered partly sincere apologies to their dominant roommate, who had the uncanny ability to both provoke and silence with that cutting mouth of his. But, he loved his skill. When he got accepted to New York University what seemed like centuries ago, Rhett had searched for a major that he could manage to get by with the least amount of work for the biggest payoff--and his answer came to him in the NYU Department of Linguistics. In all honesty, though, he'd been misinformed--the subject was not, in fact, an easy one--but the kid had a certain knack for it, finding that he naturally picked up small cues and quickly worked on mastering the English language.
With that, he was off, without any kind parting word for the other two he split his monthly rent with. The blond followed a familiar route down a couple blocks, and then made a left when traffic had visibly picked up, and stumbled to his local favorite bagel and coffee shop. It was a locally owned, hole-in-the-wall sort of place, so he was stunned to see that the line to get in wrapped halfway around the block. Despite it, he figured he'd have enough time to get to Midtown after, what, a half hour wait in line? That was doable, and his toasted everything with cream cheese would be well worth it.
9:29 a.m. Rhett was practically smoldering with impatience by the time he reached the front of the line, and with every moment that passed, his anxiety for being late grew tremendously. He nearly grabbed the woman in front of him by her shirt collar when she began to order not one, not two, but one whole dozen of bagels, which tripled the time of her order. But, finally, his patience paid off as she strolled idly off with her box and he strode to the cashier's desk.
"Everything, toasted with cream cheese," the blond quickly began. "And a coffee. Black."
His eyes caught the clerk's upper lip twitch, a subtle, nearly undetectable movement to most others, but a glaringly obvious one to him. Bad news. "Sorry, sir, we just ran out of everything bagels, actually," she told him sincerely.
"Whaddaya mean you don't--" The young man stopped, closed his eyes for a long moment, and then sighed. ".. Alright. Egg works--" Rhett saw the corners of her lips move, beginning to part with what he knew was another denial, so he continued on, "--Or plain, or sesame seed--please, I just want a bagel. I'm already late."
Thankfully, this woman sympathized enough with him to hurry his order, so once he had both in hand, he sipped off the dangerously close to overflowing cup of steaming hot coffee and nearly sprinted out of the place. The traffic was far too congested at this point in the morning to try and hail a cab or call an Uber--he'd just be wasting his time if he thought those four wheels could get him there faster than his own two legs. So, he jogged for however many blocks until the familiar visage of the detective office came into view.
The young man scarfed down the bagel in five bites, then washed the thing down with several large gulps of coffee. Sure, it wasn't the most attractive image, but what did he care? He needed something on his stomach, after all, and it would look unprofessional to tote food into one's first day in the office. Once he finished, he stuffed the paper bag and cup into an overflowing trash can, brushed the stray crumbs and trace of cream cheese from his lips, and then checked his phone. Somehow, he had ten minutes to spare. Perfect.
He strode through the front doors as if he already belonged there, looking smug and self-assured with his graceful, leisurely, cat-like movements. Rhett caught a glance of a young woman about his age head off down a hallway, and because he had no other lead to follow, he lingered a couple steps behind her, hands deep in his pockets.
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Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on May 30, 2017 1:03:24 GMT -5
Rhy Kasen It was the fifth time Rhy's alarm had gone off. 8:00am. 8:20am. 8:40am. 9:00am. 9:20am, and finally 9:30am when he couldn't afford to press snooze or ignore the unbearable beeping any longer. He let out a low groan and pulled a pillow over his head for a moment longer to try and drown out the sound. He was unsuccessful, which was better anyway since he only had 15 minutes to get ready before heading to the station. Another groan and a swift kick of his covers, Rhy sat up and ran his hands over his face than rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.
Rhy had never been a morning person, he often slept past early classes at his university either intentionally or accidentally and enjoyed lounging in bed until noon. The truth was, Rhy had never been to concerned with time, he was often late and he would meet deadlines only a day or so before he needed to in order to just barely skim by. His days of being late would have to be behind him now, he was in a very prestigious program and he wasn't going to waste what he had been granted and throw away the biggest opportunity he would have in his life.
Despite the importance of him being on time, Rhy still took the time to brush his teeth and run his hands through his curled hair to make it look slightly more presentable even though it would always look at least somewhat mussed. However he had been told his slightly messy look certainly attributed to what made him devilishly handsome. He pulled on his clothes quickly and grabbed is pack as he glanced at the watch on his wrist and headed for the door. He skidded to a halt and backtracked to grab an apple and the iced coffee he had put in the fridge the night before.
He gave a quick scan around the small apartment to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything important. The young man's place of dwelling was incredibly humble, it barely accommodated him and nearly everything in the place was broken or not working the way it should. Paint chipped off the walls and the train could be heard roaring down the track outside his window. Rhy was certain he would never get a good night sleep in a silent home and despite the obvious flaws in his place he loved it because it was his. He had paid for it on his own, along with his college education which involved working several jobs he had since quit in order to start this new one. He knew his mother would be proud and he wanted to shove his success in his father's face. But what would have to wait. Once he was satisfied he hadn't left something behind he locked the door behind him and jogged down the steps of his apartment.
Rhy barely made it before 10:00am. He was just proud he wasn't late, Rhy was always late. He had skidded down the hall into the room, slightly out of breath at exactly 9:58am. He glanced around at the others. Truthfully he was thrilled to meet the rest of the team, although he had wished he could have had the opportunity to do some reading up on them. Not that it mattered, it wasn't easy to get on Rhy's bad side and his good nature made making friends with even the most difficult of teammates much less challenging. He flashed a charming white toothed grin at the girl who stood next to him, his amber eyes already shining with excitement and a hint of mischief. "Hey." He greeted, the Raven haired girl who was there when he arrived, his raspy voice was still somewhat breathless from his jog into the building. He had no problem with breaking the ice or introducing himself quickly, they would all be getting to know each other quickly whether they wanted to or not. He noticed the blonde boy with striking green eyes behind her and gave a friendly nod to him as well.
(I didn't read through this I hope it's ok haha please excuse typos it's hard to use my iPad)
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Post by ✦ ┇ W ι ɳ on May 30, 2017 1:10:34 GMT -5
love both of your writing styles ^^
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on May 30, 2017 1:37:25 GMT -5
Working on a reply soon I just woke up and gotta get dressed first x much like my charrie
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scar
talk about bb with me
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Post by scar on May 30, 2017 1:58:58 GMT -5
Molly Abigail Reid
"People are confusing. Computers make sense." tuesday, may 2, 2017 9:58am
At the sound of a voice, the murky brown gaze lifted from the floor where she had been counting the number of tiles in her immediate line of sight and estimating the number of tiles in the rest of the building. She predicted the current room to be about 47 by 50 tiles in area and there to be at least five other rooms of equal or lesser size on this level alone. The number crunching continued in her mind as her sharp brown gaze met the friendly, curious brown of one Detective Arthur Marshall. The genuine smile paused the mental calculations, and she nodded hesitantly. No words left her mouth as she studied him, tiles forgotten for the time being; she'd come back to that if she got bored during the routine orientation-like schedule this overly friendly lad probably had prepared. She watched as his easy smile transformed into an amused pucker of the lips, and her eyes narrowed.
Arthur Floyd Marshall. Thirty-two year old male, had been working with this office since he himself was an intern ten years ago. He had managed to solve five murder cases and two other major cases during his time with the office, leaving only one cold case. Impressive specs for a young detective like himself. Molly had made sure to do some research on him and some of the other interns before arriving.
The older male looked like he was about to say something but was interrupted by the sound of feet behind her. Shifting her attention from the tall blond to the approaching stranger, the raven-haired lass fixed her gaze first on the male who had eagerly introduced himself as Rhy Kasen. Interesting. She hadn't know what to expect with Rhy as she hadn't found anything she deemed terribly noteworthy in her snooping though she admittedly hadn't spent much time in looking into his background. Perhaps if she cared, she would do some more research at the end of the day. "So you're Bread Boy," she offered with a small smile as if to insinuate she knew more than she actually let on. Sure, she hadn't actually found much on him, but he didn't need to know that, right? After a moment, she took his hand and gave a small shake. "Molly Reid."
Once the exchange was complete, she dropped his hand and glanced over his shoulder. Or, well, peaked around him as she wasn't at all tall enough to peer over his shoulder. Behind him appeared another lad, almost as tall as the one directly in front of her. He said no words, but she already knew him to be Rhett Tennyson. He too had been on her list of people to research. Again, nothing terribly notable about him, but she did recognize his educational institute as her own NYU though she was not surprised that their paths hadn't crossed until this point.
"Ah, welcome! Did you find the place easily?" the deep voice belonging to none other than Detective Marshall queried over her head. "I tried to choose one of the easier rooms to locate. Please take a seat. We'll get started with introductions and such once the others have arrived."
Without missing a beat, Molly turned back around and shuffled around their new mentor, gaze landing on a table a few feet away. A chair on the opposite side of the table with its back facing the wall seemed to call to the young lass, so she hurried toward it. It was unlikely that the other two had chosen that same seat as their destination, so she worried not that she had made enemies over a stolen chair and took a seat to wait for the others to gather around the table.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on May 30, 2017 2:35:26 GMT -5
Elodia Lopez "I can trust guns" 2nd May 2017 9:00 AMThe incessant beeping of an alarm clock prompted a young woman to sleepily stretch her hand out of the sheets - which she immediately regretted because her room was so cold - and stop the beeping. Elodia Lopez sat up, running a hand through dark hair before she realised with a jolt that today was the day. She was no longer a Weapons Engineering major. No, she was now, in fact, a detective. Well, not really. An intern. But who cared about the technicalities? Her roommates were still in bed at this point, blessedly. Their sleeping in gave Elodia first dibs on the shower and on the food. Which Elodia didn't exactly mind since normally it was a battle every morning to try and get your hands on the bathroom. So she got up with a yawn and jumped into the shower before getting changed into something she thought to be a presentable outfit but which also gave her plenty of mobility. She couldn't afford to be constricted if she was handling weapons or anything like that. The Latina woman brushed through her dark waves and put it up into a simple ponytail to keep her hair out of her face, something essential for someone working with guns - it could be the difference between hitting and missing a target. This was her usual style, as she didn't generally opt for braids or buns. They took too long and Elodia did not generally like to spend more time than necessary on her appearance. Especially not on days like today, when she had places to be, and quite fast. With this done, she headed into the kitchen. Checking the clock, she realised that it was now 9:30 and she did not have long to get to the station and meet with the other interns. So she grabbed a cereal bar and put some coffee in a travel mug. That would have to do for the moment otherwise she would be late. And this was not the kind of thing you could afford to be late for. Especially not on the first day. So, ponytail flying behind her, Elodia left for the station at 9:35. She would have enough time to get there, she guessed, but the walk was long enough that she'd have more than enough time to have her breakfast on the way. Thank God. Elodia did not want to be late. 2nd May 2017, 9:58 AMElodia had made her way through the corridors of the station, having arrived only a few minutes earlier, before arriving outside of the room she had been told to meet at that morning with the other interns. She took a deep breath, closing her amber eyes for a moment. She was a little nervous. She hated people - guns were familiar, they all worked the same way. But people were all different and complicated. It would be alright. She just had to be confident. She pushed open the door to see that some of the other interns were already there, as well as the detective who would be the mentor for the group. Well, at least she wasn't late. She took one of the free seats - she didn't really care which one she had - after giving a quick and general greeting to those in the room. Ugh. People really weren't her thing. She didn't really want to introduce herself first to anyone in the room, simply because it was a little awkward. Hey, with any look it would come across as mysterious or something. At first glance, Elodia could look a little bit intimidating, after all. Maybe that would translate into her being mysterious rather than a little bit shy or socially awkward. Because she wasn't shy, as such, she just didn't really like dealing with people. They were unpredictable and it made her a little bit uncomfortable. She didn't like complicated, messy emotions. She liked the distance guns gave her, where it was just her and the weapon. And she didn't have to think about what other people thought of her or what to do in certain situations.She might be an introvert, but if you put a gun into Elodia's hands, she would become like a totally different person. Confident, and utterly focussed. But for now, she was going to have to deal with people. Oh well.
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Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on May 30, 2017 2:54:30 GMT -5
[I'm about to go out in like 5 minutes, which is why my reply wasn't as high a quality as I would have wanted it]
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Post by Rivermagic on May 30, 2017 5:15:35 GMT -5
Marian was trained at birth to be an early riser. It hadn't been difficult to wake up at eight in the first place. She had a late night of looking over notes anyway. Of course this was going to be a much longer day, or at least feel like one. She lumbered around for a good while until she managed to find herself in the shower. She was sure her friend Matt would kill her if he found out that she would have gone to work without having showered at all.
She smirked a little to herself before she actually took out soap and lathered up her hair. At this point, she turned off the shower so she could save on her hot water. A sigh escaped her, at least now she could say that she felt a little better in some regards. Soon enough, she turned the shower on once more so she could rinse herself off. She glanced about before she heard a clattering. Oh damn, that would be Tiger being bored with himself.
Once she washed off, she turned the shower off before starting to dry herself off and get dressed. She hopped around like a fool since she saw that it was now eight thirty, plus she had yet to get her glasses. At least her blouse and pants had no stains on it, that was always a bonus. Soon enough, she had obtained her glasses so now she could see the world a little better. A part of her would have liked to have been done earlier. Still, it was a little bit of needing to feel like the first to finish. Haste made waste though, she could hear her mother's voice in her head. Ugh, she didn't need that for today. She knew that she was going to be capable of handling her own for once.
"Tiger, I'm gonna-" Marian let out a grown of frustration as she saw a good deal of her plastic cups had been knocked over. "Dammit! I don't-" she had a hard time explaining her frustration to a cat, or anyone in general. "Ugh..." she grumbled, "You're a cat, you do these things because you have no food..." she muttered while she put food in a bowl for the tabby. "You have a box to cuddle in too." she added while starting to slip on her leather jacket. It was a little warm for it, but she knew that it was better than- Like an idiot, she nearly forgot her purse with her house keys and phone. That would have been disastrous. She pulled her hair back into her usual pencil bun before scrambling out the door with a bit of a laugh at herself.
After managing to head towards the subway and actually get on it by nine, Marian was feeling pretty good about this opportunity. She hummed softly to herself as she was standing straight and holding onto one of the bars. She was a capable and healthy human, of course she would take standing over sitting down. It would be more polite for others. Though she had nearly called someone out for refusing to let an old woman sit down. This was why people were horrible... She mumbled softly to herself about what she would say to her new internship. Oh well, she knew that she had to improvise more than anything.
Once she had gotten to the office around nine thirty, she felt herself get more and more giddy. This was it, she was so pumped and ready that she felt like she could take on the world. Of course she kept that face cold and more calculating since emotion would be some kind of vulnerability. Still, she easily walked into the office to sit herself down. She already had a file of recommendations and such for her resume. Maybe he would want to see that? It was bad enough that Detective Marshal was intimidating enough. Was it strange to think him as handsome? She assumed he had that kind of "silver fox" look about him. She was already fiddling with her fingers before she fixed her glasses so they rested more securely on her face.
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Post by shades on May 30, 2017 10:47:49 GMT -5
[ yo. i gotta make a few errands. i have half a reply done. it will probably be a boring 'he walks into the office' with fluff all around post so Scar if you wanna continue, you can. or i'll be back to finish it in like an hour and a half latest. ]
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Post by shades on May 30, 2017 14:53:18 GMT -5
JEREMY NICHETKIEWICZ _ _ _
3:30 A.M. — a small New York apartment
This was probably considered unhealthily obsessed.
Or at least, the psychologist side of him might say that if it could see him now, seated on his bed at three thirty in the morning, still binging the new season of Criminal Minds that he’d been working on since moving in and saying goodnight to his parents over the phone five hours ago.
He just thought that was ironic considering his new internship beginning later in the morning (at 10 o’clock exactly), here he was watching a show on the real investigators solving crimes with psychology and sociology. He was prepared to be disappointed, knowing real life was nothing like his favorite television series. Also his advisor and Psych 101 professor freshman year told the bright-eyed, hopeful students that the BAU did not exist and there were only six Federal Bureau of Investigation agents who could count as real profilers.
Many students deflated. Jeremy just took it as a silent challenge to become number seven.
At around four a.m. he fell asleep with his laptop on his chest, and his cat on his face.
8:45 A.M.
Jeremy Nichetkiewicz could say he definitely was not a morning person. Now, with an internship that requires him to wake up early-ish most days, Jeremy still isn’t ready for the consistent up-before-noon alarm, but at least he has his whole academic experience of waking up. And this time, he hopes to make it to his internship at a fashionably early time. Then his coffee dumped on the floor to his little apartment, and that dream went to hell.
He was prepared, and Jeremy liked to be prepared. He blamed it on his former military mother and father, but also the consistent need to feel like he had his life in order. The truth was, he has always been that way. So, when it came to an internship, he did his best to prepare for any and all ‘first-day-problems’ with his DSM-5 sitting on the coffee table, a folder of the other interns he would be working closely with and performing Psych Evaluations of, and a small first aid kit (because you never know and it is always best to be prepared), not to mention notebooks and pens to scribble and jot down any necessary thoughts. He considered it a job, it basically was one.
Grabbing his keys, phone, and shoving his materials into his bag the dark-haired young man exited the apartment quickly absorbed in not being late despite leaving an hour and fifteen minutes early. Reminding himself to eat breakfast (Jeremy grabbed a banana and yogurt), and not to mention a water bottle he had tucked away in the fridge.
Of course his mother called the twenty-one year old just as he locked the door. Jeremy let out a sigh, running through the pros and cons of answering her. Pro—she’ll wish him luck and probably remind him of something he forgot. Con—if he ignores her, she’ll call three more times and maybe find the police station number and call that. Effectively embarrassing him on his first day.
He answered.
“Hey,” Jeremy stated with his phone pressed to his ear as he held the elevator door open for some other tenant, “I’m on my way into work Mom. What do you need?”
“Jear-Bear, did you remember to pack your motion sickness, allergy pills, and inhaler?”
He gave a dramatic sigh, the girl in the elevator looked at him weirdly. Jeremy did his best not to roll his eyes. No, she wouldn’t see that from a few states over.
“Yes,” Jeremy said. “I did. You’re parroting, Mother.”
The elevator door opened, he exited hastily to leave the complex and into the New York City atmosphere with people milling about and or making their own way to work. Many had coffee in their hands, Jeremy wished he didn’t spill his this morning.
“I know. I know. But this is your first well, big boy job.”
“Mom, I worked throughout high school and college.”
“But you lived at home, on and near campus, your scholarships paid for most the important expenses.”
“Touché.”
She continued babbling, Jeremy looked around at the street names to make the right turns and corners. He found himself wondering if New Yorkers could see the youthful hope that still lingered in his fair green eyes, the little unsure sort of half smile he gave to each passerby as he kinda-listened to his mother ramble (she was now going on about his sister who was nagged into packing for college already). His clothes looked too fresh and new. A backpack strung across his shoulder. He wasn’t the standard student who came from a New York City university; he went to Cornell University in Ithaca, New York and was usually three hours away from the “Big Apple” but only came a handful of times on small trips with friends.
“I gotta go, Mom,” Jeremy began just as his Mom switched to the topic of ‘relationships’ and ‘there are many people in New York City Jear-Bear, who knows you may find the one’. “I see the station. Talk to you later, tell Dad and Catie I said hi.”
Wandering into the station awkwardly, wondering if he should ask for directions to wherever he was supposed to go. He looked like he had interrupted other, more experienced officers clocking in. Not that he was naturally good at talking to others, Jeremy had a tendency to just stare (usually at the wall behind the person) and stutter out words. Thankfully the officer understood (or she just noticed the youthful, hasn’t-seen-the-sh-tstorm-we-have look) and pointed him in the right direction.
His watch said 9:55, his phone said 9:57. His compulsion made Jeremy stop right then and there to change the time on his watch to match his phone.
It was 9:59 when he entered the little office, stopping short to wave at the obviously other interns he only knew by name and social media stalking. “Uh, hey.” Jeremy stated awkwardly, shifting from foot-to-foot and sitting down in the second to last empty seat—next to some guy and some girl he knew the names of but wasn’t about to proclaim in case he was wrong.
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Post by shades on May 30, 2017 14:56:00 GMT -5
[ lol now i'll actually write his form. because i'm a scrub like that ]
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