Rapid Reader

The Sunday Group - Bumps in the Night

Val returned Eleanor's ironic toast with a desperate smile of her own before she drowned her sudden anxiety in a bubbly swoop. Putting down her now empty glass, her fingers danced nervously across her neck. She touched the black choker she had worn gently, shifting it in place. Some things were better kept from her employers and colleagues. Bite marks were suspicious. In their line of work, two fresh puncture marks just above an artery were even more suspicious. She doubted any of them would approve. Especially not the cowboy. He seemed like "the shoot first, shoot again, and then light on fire before asking questions" type of guy.

Caught in the metaphorical spotlight that was Eleanor's competent gaze and her own distracted thoughts, Val stalled for time. She pursed her turquoise lips into her best approximation of a cheerful smile, "I'm fine. Very fine. Who doesn't love a good early morning presentation?"

Incapable of waiting for Eleanor's response, Val nearly jumped out of her seat as she flagged down the first class flight attendant and wrapped her glittered fingers around another glass of champagne before the woman had a chance to object or pull the tray away from her. Val slid back into her seat with an silently mouthed apology in the direction of the stewardess and a deferential shrug towards her boss. "Free champagne is free champagne...right?"

Sipping slowly on the champagne, Val contemplated damage control. She wasn't sure she could lie to Eleanor, not about everything. Did they know about the drugs? Was it her reaction to the corpses? Was it the secretary? The young alchemist coughed politely to clear her throat. There was no way the others knew. Not about anything serious. Not about anything that would really hurt.

The bloody faces of Tailor and Talbot haunted her. In death they continued to ruin her day, so she settled for some version of the truth,"It's just...I've never seen a body before. Not like that. Not torn to pieces. And not cut into ribbons with an ice sword."

She sighed wearily and leaned back into the soft embrace of the first class seat, clutching the stuffed rabbit tightly against her chest as she looked up at the ceiling, "How do you get used to that? How do you forget?"

Val shivered. She sat up slowly and pocketed her sunglasses, drawing out slow breaths before she spoke. Her hazel eyes were clear and the drugs had faded. She met Eleanor's thoughtful gaze reluctantly. She covered her sadness with defiance, but it was there, it was something real. She wanted to trust Eleanor. She wanted to tell her. But she couldn't. She settled for her mask. She settled for a story. She settled for the Val they'd expect, "I know what I signed up for. I'm not some civilian. I know this game. I know the rules. I know what's waiting in the dark. I'll do my job."

"I'll even be your Nancy Drew. For a price," Val added with a grin, "But I'm not the cowboy, I'm not poser-Gandalf, and I'm not the tall Parisian. I'm not a killer."

@Penny

Council of the Night

Thanks for the reminder, but unfortunately I'm going to have to withdraw pre-CS stage, just a bit busier than I figured I'd be.

Best of luck though, cast so far looks great!

UNTOLD STORY: Final Dungeon

^{Collaboration with @Bork Lazer}
"Oh, so now it's alright to summon the dead?" Clara said with a raised eyebrow at the rather large electric rodent. Her adventures with the party had been an exercise in mixed messages. Accidentally destroying a sizable village doubtlessly had not helped.

" Oh, oh!" Fred's flippered mouth opened and closed in a mock caricature of childish excitement. "Are you really, are you gonna perform that magic trick again, Miss Clara? Oh my god, I'm soooooo exci-" He then morphed back into the ruffled body of Nick Nacks, his woolen sock face twisted in annoyance. " Quiet, Fred!" He barked out to no one before looking at the necromancer. " Just do it. The sooner we get to this accursed fortress, the better."

The Sunday Group - Bumps in the Night

I feel targeted.

So, I'm going to respond with maturity, dignity, and grace, just like Val would.

For Poser-Gandalf and his off-brand charm

It's a magic trick.

My Hider

I'm very pleased with our banter and memes, beyond the stellar posts ofc.

The Sunday Group - Bumps in the Night

Well, since you ask...and I can no longer be blamed, I'll start working on something fun.

Should have some time tomorrow, but no one should feel obliged to wait or to slow the momentum.

The Sunday Group - Bumps in the Night

The urge to have Val lording over her first class ticket is pretty hard to resist.

Fortunately, Eleanor had a some much needed grounded-ness before Val really went off the rails.

Council of the Night

I have absolutely no idea what I'll write yet, but I adore this concept too much to not pitch a character.

The Sunday Group - Bumps in the Night

Val emerged from the drab basement room that she had turned into a laboratory with her leather bag and a stuffed rabbit. She couldn't remember the last time she had arrived ready to travel. She preferred the "throw all your stuff in a bag in a mad dash or miss your flight" approach. She had to pretend to pack though. Everyone else had vanished into their offices to pack or drink, she couldn't be entirely sure. Val suspected the grizzled Ranger had a secret supply of tequila. Maybe when they returned she'd figure out a way to liberate any booze hidden in his gun room.

She imagined that she could feel the weight of the gun in her bag. It made her nervous. She hated guns. She didn't want to have to kill someone. Val could feel that she was rapidly falling from the brief peak of horror that had become her morning of illicit magical substance use. She didn't like it, but she had to pace herself. Val saw no reason to talk to the others and simply collapsed into a corner of the couch as she wished for a swift death.

She missed the decked out appearance of the wizard she had decided to rename poser-Gandalf. Had she noticed, Val would doubtlessly have asked him more than one pointed question about the best way to explode a bad guy, but she was too tired to pay attention. She restrained a brief desire to murder Clive. She didn't think Ellie would accept loud chewing as reason for defensive magic of the offensive variety. Instead the young alchemist busied herself with her stuffed rabbit.

The brown rabbit had seen better days and was a patchwork of mismatched fabric and assorted threads. Sir Thomas, as Val had named him, was a brave knight. The greatest knighted rabbit in all the land. The only one in fact. And he had been tasked by King Arthur himself to find the Holy Grail. A quest he had dutifully attempted to complete for several centuries.

Val was unsure what her colleagues or more importantly her therapist would say about the extremely detailed and lengthy biography she had created for Sir Thomas. She doubted it would be good. For some reason professionals tended to look down on the idea of keeping stuffed animals in your office. However, they'd just have to indulge her. She loved traveling, but she she hated airports. They reminded her of the suburbs. A place she considered a minor rendition of some infernal plane. Nerves. She could feel her nerves firing much too fast. She didn't like the pit she felt in her stomach. She wanted to cry, but she knew better.

The Sunday Group - Bumps in the Night

I'll have a post done tonight or Tuesday, but fun follow up posts from all.

Posted, so Val is ready to go.

UNTOLD STORY: Final Dungeon

Fun first post, although now I'm worried about a horde of magical Dutchmen guarding their tulips.

I'll probably be thinking about posting Tuesday-ish, but shocking the fins sounds in character. :D