@ONL lol not sure if you will be awake givein your timezone, but I bet you'll be wakeing up to something!
T Risket Member
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...Definitley think Fallout Tactics: BOS is still the worst.
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@ONL
woot woot, gonna have a post up tonight!
Edit-meant to ask, Im assuming August could easily tell that Jeremy is Irish, right?
woot woot, gonna have a post up tonight!
Edit-meant to ask, Im assuming August could easily tell that Jeremy is Irish, right?
@ONL
Yeah man that would be totally fine if you'd like to take him over If I do leave at some point.
As for everything else you said that's really good to hear man and somewhat puts my mind at ease-the main reason I was considering dropping out was just cause I don't want you guys waiting on me. That and I find myself stressing about posting (especially when I say Im gonna) only to get sidetracked by lord knows what and not be able too. And its never good for something you do for fun to be stressing you out lol.
Don't worry yet though! I'll stick around and let you guys know if that changes, hopefully my schedule will clear up and get a little more regular here soon and things will all work themselves out.
Yeah man that would be totally fine if you'd like to take him over If I do leave at some point.
As for everything else you said that's really good to hear man and somewhat puts my mind at ease-the main reason I was considering dropping out was just cause I don't want you guys waiting on me. That and I find myself stressing about posting (especially when I say Im gonna) only to get sidetracked by lord knows what and not be able too. And its never good for something you do for fun to be stressing you out lol.
Don't worry yet though! I'll stick around and let you guys know if that changes, hopefully my schedule will clear up and get a little more regular here soon and things will all work themselves out.
Hey guys, really tryin to get my post up today. Also wanted to let everyone know Im really thinking about writing August out of the story at this point as I just don't seem to have enough time to post regularly (As im sure you've all noticed.) I really don't want to drop out but thought I'd let you all know I am seriously considering it.
I was starting to wonder why no one was talking but come to find out I'm just an idiot *has been reading page 16 in the ooc for over a day*
So...pretending that never happened...But I too should totally have a post up tonight or tomorrow (was waiting to start it yesterday cause I thought @ONL was adding to the part about August)
So...pretending that never happened...But I too should totally have a post up tonight or tomorrow (was waiting to start it yesterday cause I thought @ONL was adding to the part about August)
@SigurdIt was a good pun, it was just SO dry! Don't feel too bad about yourself.
@T Risket Good to hear from you, but don't sweat it; vacation is always important (for those actually going outside, yuck!). Looking forward to the post! So what have you been doing on vacation then?
Hey everybody! Got my post up! Sorta brief, but I should get things moving.
As for what I'm doing for vacation-me and my girlfriend wound up going back to our hometown for the week so its just kinda the basic seeing family/friends (and more importantly, eating at all my fav restaurants.) Heading back on the road Sunday for about 9 hours.
August Dupin
Physical State: Tense.
Mental State: Calming down
Mental State: Calming down
“I’m sorry, I…I wasn’t paying attention. I hope I didn’t ruin your…” The man who'd bumped into August paused for the briefest of moments as his eyes made contact with one of the various horrifying photographs strewn about in the snow-it was an act August took note of. “…photographs…”
Following the strangers gaze August's eyes fell upon a rather well framed photograph that was the only publicly released picture of one of the many gruesome suicides around town and its accompanying story. August immediately recognized the framed moment in time that held this strangers gaze.
Suicide wasn't an unknown to August at this point in his life; quite the contrary in fact as he'd seen the vile act enough times to form some basic things to look for when dealing with the subject. Needless to say in Augusts' vast experience people tended to choose what they believed to be the least painful way out when taking their own lives-hell, even those with a guilty conscience often opted for a quick bullet to the head or the quite release that certain narcotics often brought. It was for that very reason the Killigan suicide had so clearly stuck in his head and why he recognized it at a mere glance: afterall crushing yourself to death beneath a slow hydraulic lift was pretty high up there on the “painful ways to die” list, something that made August question the whole thing entirely.
Seemingly lost in thought the rude stranger before him didn't even respond until August prodded him with another similar question “Hey, I asked you a question. Do I know you?”
Finally the man piped up while simultaneously scrambling to help August pick up all the scattered evidence. The way he spoke made August take it as a question initialy.
“August Dupin?”
The man went on speaking, his voice much more assuring in a way that made August genuinely believe him for the moment.
“I do, yes, when I think about it. It’s been years, but I do remember having met you. France, during the war, right? You probably don’t remember me, I looked different back then, it’s funny how war changes you.” So that explained it August found himself thinking. Now knowing what to look for August quickly decided that the man did indeed carry himself with the tell tale signs of a war veteran much like August himself did. He was actually surprised he hadn't noticed it right off the bat. Nodding in silent agreement while his eyes clearly tried to place the face-even though he couldn't remember specifics of the man currently talking to him he was also more than willing to believe that somewhere among the sea of faces he had met during the Great War there had to have been one or two that completely escaped his memory.
“It’s been long since that though. I take it you’re a reporter, since you have the photograph of a suicide victim? I knew him, actually, it wasn’t a grand time for me back then. So what are you doing with the picture, is there something new the newspaper has discovered?”
Quick to chase a lead and fall into a given roll August nodded his head in agreement. All the momentary anger from before having seemingly vanished from equal parts respect and the sudden need to make the man like him. “Quite astute of you, Jeremy was it?” The name rolled off his tongue before August even realized he had no real way of knowing that was in fact his name. He simply went on speaking however. Somehow he was sure of his words. “I am in fact a reporter for the Arkham Herald.” He lied through a smile, repeating the name of the paper delivered to his rented room each morning. “And if I'm being completely honest with you Jeremy, soldier to soldier," He gave the man a wink "the paper isn't necessarily releasing any new information as mutch as we are chasing down leads that the unfortunate...events...that befell Mr. Killigan may have infact been tied to a bigger picture of sorts. I'm just doing my best to connect some dots at the moment, hence this stack.” He slapped the now fully collected photographs against his free hand to signify that he was talking about them. “In fact if you have the free time, I would love to ask you some questions? Perhaps over a cup of coffee? Afterall, you never know where what random factoid you could provide might lead.”
Hey yall-sorry I haven't been on much (on vacation right now.) Wanted to just hop on and let everyone know I was still here though-plan on havein a post up tonight or sometime tommorow.
@ONLI did it! Finally! Cut alot out though lol
Before long August and Dupree were sequestered away within the confines of Duprees private study, the good professor having been kind enough to not only treat August like a sane individual but also went about reinforcing his beliefs that he wasn't a madman-Faye Desdemona was or at some time had been a very real person.
August had to admit the majority of clippings upon Dupree's infamous wall had been quite the sight, his eyes doing a dance that tried to connect all of the macabre murders, suicides, and unexplained phenomena that literally sat pinned against the wall before him. Withdrawing a wallet sized camera from within one of the many pockets of his beige trench coat August flipped a switch on the small rectangular object which then sprung open with a pop into a tapered triangle shape. Most wouldn't outright recognize the impressive piece of technology he held as many were still used to the much more common big and bulky types of cameras-not the sort of science fiction device August held in on of his massive paws. Letting Dupree get a good look at the camera and hearing no objections August began taking picture after picture and before long had photographed the entirety of the whole wall. For a moment the detective in him salivated at the idea of trying to decipher each and every secret confined within what was quite possibly the most devilish puzzle he had ever seen. But then he remembered he was already trying to solve his own personal puzzle-a puzzle that could very well have a piece hidden within these various paper clippings.
Hopefully he now had a comrade to help him in his search..
As the two stood there trying to decipher some sort of meaning or pattern within the impressively put together wall of articles consisting of both crimes of passion along with outright insanity August found himself occasionally glancing towards Dupree in a momentarily peculiar way, almost as if to simply relay the fact that he was glad the other man was there-Dupree was afterall walking proof August wasn't entirely crazy. Proof that this whole world wasn't entirely crazy.
Or did all this just prove the opposite? Perhaps the pair rightfully belonged in the old Sanitarium, the very place that even August had heard foul whispers of despite his short time in the City.
Pushing these thoughts from his mind in a way that he had become rather adept at doing August finished the cup of tea Dupree had brewed for the pair-not too fast as to appear rude but quick enough that he was clearly intent on leaving. It was a shame too he thought-it was a damn good cup of tea afterall and he truly didn't mind the company. But August had a set goal in his head at the moment and no amount of tea and coffee could dissuade him once he was set upon a path.
No, nothing short of a bullet would stop August from finding his answers.
With a tip of his fedora and a few heartfelt words of gratitude August was gone and before Dupree knew it all that was left in his place was the faint smell of cheap cigarettes along with a business card containing little more than August's name and number-although in this case he also wrote the rooms phone number for the Nightshade Inn.
--
The rest of Augusts day had been spent tracking down a man with a decent darkroom: the man who finally was able to help him out in this regard hadn't even been a man at all though. Quite the contrary infact as Cindy Usher was in many ways many a mans ideal looking lady-well, most men.
She was a kind girl in what August assumed was probably her late twenties and considering the way she was as equally quick to flirt as she was to talk back he thought it safe to assume she was single. In his mind she really seemed like one of those “flapper” girls he'd heard of, the type who seemed to effortlessly buck most of those old world rules that shackled so many men and women for years. And maybe that's why August immediately liked her, although he wasn't really sure to be honest. Iether way he seemed to like her enough to sit there and cut the shit with her for an hour or two before heading back out into the cold streets. Before leaving Cindy had promised to have all of his photographs ready for pick up in the morning-even more importantly she promised to keep a tight lip about the contents of said photographs in a way that August honestly believed. It didn't really surprise him how quick she swore herself to secrecy, afterall he genuinely thought she seemed the type that would be far more curious than fearful about abunch of pictures from old news stories on ghastly unsolved crimes and phenomenoa.
--
LATER THAT NIGHT
August giant frame sat hunched in the crappy bed that took up the majority of the small room he'd been calling home as of late. In one hand he loosely clutched what looked like a glass milk jug full of a clear and extremely strong smelling liquid-white lightning. Both highly illegal and potentially toxic but August didn't much mind either risk-sure, alcohol was illegal, but it was still just as easy to get as a pack of smokes. The still easy access to liquoir was a good thing for August too because these days he didn't really “go to sleep” so much but instead more often than not “Passed the fuck out.”
Despite his best efforts to subconciousley fight the dreams and stay awake the extremely strong alcohol eventually won out as it always did-sending August spinning into the deep dark hole that was the nightmares.
Only, this time the dream was a bit different. A little scarier too, in some ways.
--
THE NEXT DAY.
Early in the morning August awoke in a way that he often did-his body covered in a cold sweat and sore to the point where he knew he'd been tossing and turning in his sleep all night. Hefting his massive frame from the bed he stumbled his way into the tiny bathroom of his single bedroom rental. A quick shower and change of clothes and he was ready to start the day yet again, ready to fall yet further down the rabbit hole.
Lighting his first cigarette of the day August made sure to slip his fedora and signature beige trenchcoat on as he made his way through the rickety door that lead to the innards of the NightShade Inn. It was early enough that he knew the store Cindy Usher worked in would not be open for a few more hours and because of this reason he took himself and his hangover to the nearest diner; a copious amount of coffee and scrambled eggs later and he was feeling a tad bit better. Checking the watch on his right arm he thought it likely that Cindy would have opened shop by now.
Paying his bill and leaving a decent tip August barreled onward into the everpresent snowfall that seemed to plague the damned City he found himself in. Luckily he was the type to shrug the cold off rather easily and in a rather short time had trudged his way to the small building officially known as Usher's House.
He went to open the door and was rather surprised to find it still locked-the hours stenciled in white upon the door stating that they should have indeed opened an hour ago. At the same time he was mentally taking note of this odd occurrence his eyes spotted a medium sized manilla envelope upon the ground half covered in snow. As he dusted the powdery white winter off of the envelope he realized the only thing that had kept the parcel from blowing away was the fact that a lone single corner had been wedged under the now locked door-just by the way it looked August could tell someone had purposefully placed it there while shutting and locking the door.
There were two immediate questions upon his mind; the first question being a simple why.
The second question, and more immediate, was just who's blood littered the manilla envelope he now clutched in his hands?
Knowing he could do little but check back later and perhaps ask Barry about this turn of events next time he saw him August decieded to just go about his business in what could be considered a rather callous way.
Opening the envelope while walking in the direction of nowehere in particular August dumped the hefty contents of the envelope that turned out to be just what he thought it would-the very photos he'd given to Cindy the night before. Immediately he began thumbing through them all while simultaneously reorganizing and shifting them into differing categories and clues he seemed to find while lost in an almost trance of sorts.
Then he felt the force of a man literally walking into him-a fact made worse due to the reason that August himself had been walking at an oblivious pace that was backed by his 300 some odd pound frame. 300 pounds that collided with Jeremy Arthur.
In an almost slower version of time August watched in dismay as the various photographs he'd been holding in a particular order fell from his hands due to the force of the collision. Like raindrops in the sky he watched each recently developed image hit the ground.
In an uncontrolled outburst of anger August turned his full overpowering presence against the man who was momentarily completely to blame within his raging mind. “Can't you watch where your going?” August snarled while locking eyes with the newcomer, his hands clinching into dangerous looking fists that begged for an excuse to swing. Then the brief moment of deja vu hit him-as if he had run into this complete stranger once before...but that made no since because August was one hundred percent sure he had never seen the man.
“Do I know you?”
August had to admit the majority of clippings upon Dupree's infamous wall had been quite the sight, his eyes doing a dance that tried to connect all of the macabre murders, suicides, and unexplained phenomena that literally sat pinned against the wall before him. Withdrawing a wallet sized camera from within one of the many pockets of his beige trench coat August flipped a switch on the small rectangular object which then sprung open with a pop into a tapered triangle shape. Most wouldn't outright recognize the impressive piece of technology he held as many were still used to the much more common big and bulky types of cameras-not the sort of science fiction device August held in on of his massive paws. Letting Dupree get a good look at the camera and hearing no objections August began taking picture after picture and before long had photographed the entirety of the whole wall. For a moment the detective in him salivated at the idea of trying to decipher each and every secret confined within what was quite possibly the most devilish puzzle he had ever seen. But then he remembered he was already trying to solve his own personal puzzle-a puzzle that could very well have a piece hidden within these various paper clippings.
Hopefully he now had a comrade to help him in his search..
As the two stood there trying to decipher some sort of meaning or pattern within the impressively put together wall of articles consisting of both crimes of passion along with outright insanity August found himself occasionally glancing towards Dupree in a momentarily peculiar way, almost as if to simply relay the fact that he was glad the other man was there-Dupree was afterall walking proof August wasn't entirely crazy. Proof that this whole world wasn't entirely crazy.
Or did all this just prove the opposite? Perhaps the pair rightfully belonged in the old Sanitarium, the very place that even August had heard foul whispers of despite his short time in the City.
Pushing these thoughts from his mind in a way that he had become rather adept at doing August finished the cup of tea Dupree had brewed for the pair-not too fast as to appear rude but quick enough that he was clearly intent on leaving. It was a shame too he thought-it was a damn good cup of tea afterall and he truly didn't mind the company. But August had a set goal in his head at the moment and no amount of tea and coffee could dissuade him once he was set upon a path.
No, nothing short of a bullet would stop August from finding his answers.
With a tip of his fedora and a few heartfelt words of gratitude August was gone and before Dupree knew it all that was left in his place was the faint smell of cheap cigarettes along with a business card containing little more than August's name and number-although in this case he also wrote the rooms phone number for the Nightshade Inn.
--
The rest of Augusts day had been spent tracking down a man with a decent darkroom: the man who finally was able to help him out in this regard hadn't even been a man at all though. Quite the contrary infact as Cindy Usher was in many ways many a mans ideal looking lady-well, most men.
She was a kind girl in what August assumed was probably her late twenties and considering the way she was as equally quick to flirt as she was to talk back he thought it safe to assume she was single. In his mind she really seemed like one of those “flapper” girls he'd heard of, the type who seemed to effortlessly buck most of those old world rules that shackled so many men and women for years. And maybe that's why August immediately liked her, although he wasn't really sure to be honest. Iether way he seemed to like her enough to sit there and cut the shit with her for an hour or two before heading back out into the cold streets. Before leaving Cindy had promised to have all of his photographs ready for pick up in the morning-even more importantly she promised to keep a tight lip about the contents of said photographs in a way that August honestly believed. It didn't really surprise him how quick she swore herself to secrecy, afterall he genuinely thought she seemed the type that would be far more curious than fearful about abunch of pictures from old news stories on ghastly unsolved crimes and phenomenoa.
--
LATER THAT NIGHT
August giant frame sat hunched in the crappy bed that took up the majority of the small room he'd been calling home as of late. In one hand he loosely clutched what looked like a glass milk jug full of a clear and extremely strong smelling liquid-white lightning. Both highly illegal and potentially toxic but August didn't much mind either risk-sure, alcohol was illegal, but it was still just as easy to get as a pack of smokes. The still easy access to liquoir was a good thing for August too because these days he didn't really “go to sleep” so much but instead more often than not “Passed the fuck out.”
Despite his best efforts to subconciousley fight the dreams and stay awake the extremely strong alcohol eventually won out as it always did-sending August spinning into the deep dark hole that was the nightmares.
Only, this time the dream was a bit different. A little scarier too, in some ways.
--
THE NEXT DAY.
Early in the morning August awoke in a way that he often did-his body covered in a cold sweat and sore to the point where he knew he'd been tossing and turning in his sleep all night. Hefting his massive frame from the bed he stumbled his way into the tiny bathroom of his single bedroom rental. A quick shower and change of clothes and he was ready to start the day yet again, ready to fall yet further down the rabbit hole.
Lighting his first cigarette of the day August made sure to slip his fedora and signature beige trenchcoat on as he made his way through the rickety door that lead to the innards of the NightShade Inn. It was early enough that he knew the store Cindy Usher worked in would not be open for a few more hours and because of this reason he took himself and his hangover to the nearest diner; a copious amount of coffee and scrambled eggs later and he was feeling a tad bit better. Checking the watch on his right arm he thought it likely that Cindy would have opened shop by now.
Paying his bill and leaving a decent tip August barreled onward into the everpresent snowfall that seemed to plague the damned City he found himself in. Luckily he was the type to shrug the cold off rather easily and in a rather short time had trudged his way to the small building officially known as Usher's House.
He went to open the door and was rather surprised to find it still locked-the hours stenciled in white upon the door stating that they should have indeed opened an hour ago. At the same time he was mentally taking note of this odd occurrence his eyes spotted a medium sized manilla envelope upon the ground half covered in snow. As he dusted the powdery white winter off of the envelope he realized the only thing that had kept the parcel from blowing away was the fact that a lone single corner had been wedged under the now locked door-just by the way it looked August could tell someone had purposefully placed it there while shutting and locking the door.
There were two immediate questions upon his mind; the first question being a simple why.
The second question, and more immediate, was just who's blood littered the manilla envelope he now clutched in his hands?
Knowing he could do little but check back later and perhaps ask Barry about this turn of events next time he saw him August decieded to just go about his business in what could be considered a rather callous way.
Opening the envelope while walking in the direction of nowehere in particular August dumped the hefty contents of the envelope that turned out to be just what he thought it would-the very photos he'd given to Cindy the night before. Immediately he began thumbing through them all while simultaneously reorganizing and shifting them into differing categories and clues he seemed to find while lost in an almost trance of sorts.
Then he felt the force of a man literally walking into him-a fact made worse due to the reason that August himself had been walking at an oblivious pace that was backed by his 300 some odd pound frame. 300 pounds that collided with Jeremy Arthur.
In an almost slower version of time August watched in dismay as the various photographs he'd been holding in a particular order fell from his hands due to the force of the collision. Like raindrops in the sky he watched each recently developed image hit the ground.
In an uncontrolled outburst of anger August turned his full overpowering presence against the man who was momentarily completely to blame within his raging mind. “Can't you watch where your going?” August snarled while locking eyes with the newcomer, his hands clinching into dangerous looking fists that begged for an excuse to swing. Then the brief moment of deja vu hit him-as if he had run into this complete stranger once before...but that made no since because August was one hundred percent sure he had never seen the man.
“Do I know you?”
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