STATUS:
"Gee Sam, this seems like the kinda case that requires the gentle, safe-cracking touch of the sociopathic, sausage-fingered freelance police."
9 yrs ago
Current
"Gee Sam, this seems like the kinda case that requires the gentle, safe-cracking touch of the sociopathic, sausage-fingered freelance police."
1
like
9 yrs ago
Blue in Dallas
Bio
Rain pattered dismally against the office’s windows, made liquid brass by the faint glow of the streetlamps below, and streaked against the glass like tears. Once, the words “Jennofski & Jennofski” had been painted in gold across these jalouises… but now there was only an outline, a ghost that had lingered, long past its time, when the acid rain had taken the rest to its grave. The Octo P.I. could sympathise with that.
But as long as he remained, those names would never be forgotten. Not in this, the office that had been his home, his sanctuary, and his prison. A perfectly preserved memory, kept sealed within the bell jar of personal tragedy. OctoP.I. sighed, deeply. “Of all the octopode's profiles in all the world… you had to read mine.”
Hi all, Jenno here! Or Captain. I'm your resident blues harpist, and part time octopode! (But let's keep that between you and me, eh? Nobody suspects a thing.) If you want to know anything just drop me a line via DMs and I'll get right back to you!
If you can - I wouldn't worry as much if people just came in to tell me they were busy, though. Nothing kills a roleplay quite as quickly as radio silence.
[i]Rain pattered dismally against the office’s windows, made liquid brass by the faint glow of the streetlamps below, and streaked against the glass like tears. Once, the words “Jennofski & Jennofski” had been painted in gold across these jalouises… but now there was only an outline, a ghost that had lingered, long past its time, when the acid rain had taken the rest to its grave.
The Octo P.I. could sympathise with that.
But as long as he remained, those names would never be forgotten. Not in this, the office that had been his home, his sanctuary, and his prison.
A perfectly preserved memory, kept sealed within the bell jar of personal tragedy.
OctoP.I. sighed, deeply.
“Of all the octopode's profiles in all the world… you had to read mine.” [/i]
Hi all, Jenno here! Or Captain. I'm your resident blues harpist, and part time octopode! (But let's keep that between you and me, eh? Nobody suspects a thing.)
If you want to know anything just drop me a line via DMs and I'll get right back to you!
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><span class="bb-i">Rain pattered dismally against the office’s windows, made liquid brass by the faint glow of the streetlamps below, and streaked against the glass like tears. Once, the words “Jennofski & Jennofski” had been painted in gold across these jalouises… but now there was only an outline, a ghost that had lingered, long past its time, when the acid rain had taken the rest to its grave. <br>The Octo P.I. could sympathise with that. <br><br>But as long as he remained, those names would never be forgotten. Not in this, the office that had been his home, his sanctuary, and his prison. <br>A perfectly preserved memory, kept sealed within the bell jar of personal tragedy. <br>OctoP.I. sighed, deeply. <br>“Of all the octopode's profiles in all the world… you had to read mine.” </span><br><br>Hi all, Jenno here! Or Captain. I'm your resident blues harpist, and part time octopode! (But let's keep that between you and me, eh? Nobody suspects a thing.)<br>If you want to know anything just drop me a line via DMs and I'll get right back to you!</div>