@Massasauga
Or Yumeiko, or any other person who knows or can make use of the 'Holy' affinity, could just exorcise her and forcefully remove her from the mortal realm.
That’s pretty rude though
Massasauga Member
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That’s pretty rude though
Spirits left in our world tend to have unfinished business and can’t pass over until it is resolved or equated. So basically either Suzy has to find out why she hasn’t moved on or has to help other people enough to balance out.
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Embarrassed, too, about psyching himself out over nothing. Though that, in turn, will make Rebecca even more mysterious.
Makes a great conversation starter though
Khalid is going to be very disappointed when he finds out “Slick” is literally just a pet snake.
Rebecca Holloway
Lobby Front Desk
The lobby seemed very spacious. Most everything was quiet, but Rebecca heard a lot of commotion carried from the upper floors through the halls. Muffled talking and moving. She paid little mind. She was perpetually tired after having walked all the way here for miles. All she really wanted right now was a bite and a bed, though she wasn't sure if she'd get any sleep at this hour. She barely even noticed the man at the front desk standing at her side, but said nothing anyway. She had business to attend to after all.
Rebecca turned to look at the woman who was made of snakes. It was a bit striking and she would've averted her eyes to keep from turning to stone if she didn't already look right at her, proving that she wasn't Medusa. She itched at the band-aid across her nose before digging into her pocket and producing a card with a scribbling of a name and address.
"Yeah I was told you help people like me. I'm looking for a place to stay. Quiet. Covert. Off the grid, so to speak. Friend of mine pointed me to this guy who said to come here. Wouldn't mind getting something to eat either."
Curt. Short. To the point. She slid the card across the desk and put her hand in her pocket. Something ruffled from under her field parka. The head of a snake poked out, staring intently at the head of snakes in front of it. Slowly, lazily, it slithered out from the parka until Rebecca put her hand to it and brought it back.
"Slick, no. Stay."
Lobby Front Desk
The lobby seemed very spacious. Most everything was quiet, but Rebecca heard a lot of commotion carried from the upper floors through the halls. Muffled talking and moving. She paid little mind. She was perpetually tired after having walked all the way here for miles. All she really wanted right now was a bite and a bed, though she wasn't sure if she'd get any sleep at this hour. She barely even noticed the man at the front desk standing at her side, but said nothing anyway. She had business to attend to after all.
“I’m really sorry Miss. Is this your first time here? I’m afraid I do not recognize you.”
Rebecca turned to look at the woman who was made of snakes. It was a bit striking and she would've averted her eyes to keep from turning to stone if she didn't already look right at her, proving that she wasn't Medusa. She itched at the band-aid across her nose before digging into her pocket and producing a card with a scribbling of a name and address.
"Yeah I was told you help people like me. I'm looking for a place to stay. Quiet. Covert. Off the grid, so to speak. Friend of mine pointed me to this guy who said to come here. Wouldn't mind getting something to eat either."
Curt. Short. To the point. She slid the card across the desk and put her hand in her pocket. Something ruffled from under her field parka. The head of a snake poked out, staring intently at the head of snakes in front of it. Slowly, lazily, it slithered out from the parka until Rebecca put her hand to it and brought it back.
"Slick, no. Stay."
I just realized that there are 2 Shoggoth's that want to talk to Theria... Am I in danger?
I wouldn’t worry about it
<Snipped quote by Massasauga>
Over my dead wolverine body
<Snipped quote by Massasauga>
Ye.
Pennsylvania. Also known as “Ohio 2”.
Oh God, we’re in Pennsylvania?
The air was crisp in the morning. It always was. Dew had settled and was greeted by the sun rising over the horizon. The town was bustling with people heading to work or getting their day started. The walk in had been long, but it was the quietest march she'd been on. As the building came into view, Rebecca looked it over. It seemed fairly bland and drab. Hard to believe it was a place full of weird creatures on the inside, but she had been familiar with these kinds of dealings before. A few of her friends were able to make things happen with helping her skirt the state police and other places frequented by undercover FBI and Sheriff Deputies. Her brothers looked out for her, because she looked out for them once too. In Laos, Cambodia, North Vietnam, Southern China, Iran, Grenada, Panama, Kuwait, Somalia, Kosovo, Iraq, Afghanistan...
Back home, none of them wanted to see her labeled as a ruthless monster bent only on destruction. They wanted her to have a chance at a normal life too. Everyone else had rotated out and new faces came in, so in the last 2000's she made her call and decided she had overstayed her welcome. From then on it was couch surfing and late night shifts at local places for meager pay. She couldn't afford to make use of her skills because it would only draw attention. No one would give a second thought to another dishwasher or line cook in the back of a kitchen. Still they always managed to hone in on her. It was hard to vanish without having to go completely off the reservation.
The building was a chance. A chance to disappear almost completely. To truly live off the reservation without having to live off the land. It was almost too good to be true. It had taken a lot of convincing in her days, but now she stood before the towers. Her olive drab M65 field parka kept her body defended against the threat of the errant morning breeze. The tapes above her breast pockets read "HOLLOWAY" on the right and "U.S. ARMY" on the left. On her right shoulder was a reversed American flag, indicative of a member of the military. On the left was a shield patch that was red with gold bordering, featuring a USAF command pilot wings badge, a skull with a green beret atop a banner reading MACVSOG, and the bottom end of an anchor with a mooring line. A pair of Wrangler jeans had seen more than enough grass and mud and dirt from the stains and the wear on them. Old jungle combat boots had been tied up and had their laces tucked away to avoid snagging on anything. A large green duffel bag was slung across her left shoulder full of everything she needed to live out in the field for a good while.
Rebecca stepped off towards the apartments. It was uncanny the way everything seemed to be so quiet from the outside. Maybe things could be different for her here. A chance at a real quiet life. Did she want that? It wasn't for certain, but she would give it an honest try. After all, she had friends and had her ways if things didn't work out. She could just disappear when the time was right, but she needed to get her mind together. After all, nothing worth doing was ever easy. She pushed through the door and walked up to the front desk, which was currently unoccupied and did her best to switch her outward expression to a softer yet exhausted look. Being personable was still a big challenge.
Back home, none of them wanted to see her labeled as a ruthless monster bent only on destruction. They wanted her to have a chance at a normal life too. Everyone else had rotated out and new faces came in, so in the last 2000's she made her call and decided she had overstayed her welcome. From then on it was couch surfing and late night shifts at local places for meager pay. She couldn't afford to make use of her skills because it would only draw attention. No one would give a second thought to another dishwasher or line cook in the back of a kitchen. Still they always managed to hone in on her. It was hard to vanish without having to go completely off the reservation.
The building was a chance. A chance to disappear almost completely. To truly live off the reservation without having to live off the land. It was almost too good to be true. It had taken a lot of convincing in her days, but now she stood before the towers. Her olive drab M65 field parka kept her body defended against the threat of the errant morning breeze. The tapes above her breast pockets read "HOLLOWAY" on the right and "U.S. ARMY" on the left. On her right shoulder was a reversed American flag, indicative of a member of the military. On the left was a shield patch that was red with gold bordering, featuring a USAF command pilot wings badge, a skull with a green beret atop a banner reading MACVSOG, and the bottom end of an anchor with a mooring line. A pair of Wrangler jeans had seen more than enough grass and mud and dirt from the stains and the wear on them. Old jungle combat boots had been tied up and had their laces tucked away to avoid snagging on anything. A large green duffel bag was slung across her left shoulder full of everything she needed to live out in the field for a good while.
Rebecca stepped off towards the apartments. It was uncanny the way everything seemed to be so quiet from the outside. Maybe things could be different for her here. A chance at a real quiet life. Did she want that? It wasn't for certain, but she would give it an honest try. After all, she had friends and had her ways if things didn't work out. She could just disappear when the time was right, but she needed to get her mind together. After all, nothing worth doing was ever easy. She pushed through the door and walked up to the front desk, which was currently unoccupied and did her best to switch her outward expression to a softer yet exhausted look. Being personable was still a big challenge.
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