glowing_skye: (tears)
[A: In and around 1492 Kramden Road]

[Ema Skye is freaking out. Thanks to an ill-advised cafeteria meal at the hospital, she's hallucinating. As far as she's concerned, she's fourteen years old again (while simultaneously twenty-five), reliving one of the worst nights of her life. She's trapped in a darkened office with no source of light except for the occasional flash of lightning.

Joe Darke is coming after her.

Neil Marshall is coming to save her.

Neil Marshall is going to die, and it will be all her fault.

Sure, Damon Gant was the man who actually killed the prosecutor. But if he hadn't have come to her rescue, the opportunity would have never presented itself.

She can't handle this. So she can be found cowering, her arms over her head, waiting for history to repeat itself. Unless... maybe this time, Neil Marshall won't come to her rescue. Maybe this time, she's done for.

Either way, she waits.]




[B: Somewhere, sometime after A. Locked to [livejournal.com profile] uranophobe and [livejournal.com profile] puzzlerprince]

[Paging Dr. Jonathan Crane.

Your newest test subject is ready.]
glowing_skye: (cooler than you)
A [Action]:

[Ema Skye is not usually a happy person. The fact that she seems to be one today should be a clue that something is amiss. When weird things happen in Mayfield, Ema usually goes into a foul mood and either sulks or mobilizes to take action.

Today, she's doing neither. She's simply sitting in the park, munching on some treats she bought at the grocery store and watching people go by. If any of them are paying attention, she's making catty comments to herself as she takes notes on what she sees. Science at its finest.]



B [Action 2: Electric Boogaloo, Locked to [livejournal.com profile] puzzlerprince]:

[The real Ema Skye is in a pod just outside of the hospital. Someone was body-snatched on her way to work this morning.]


C [More Action!]:

[Post-rescue (and post-rescuing other people), Ema's just wandering around town trying to take all of the details in. Not knowing what else to do with herself, she's decided to fall back on familiar habits--i.e., investigation. She has her notepad in her hands and is furiously scribbling down all of her observations.

Unlike the pod version of her, she's actually taking notes on things that are relevant to the events at hand.]
glowing_skye: (chemistry in a bikini)
[It takes Ema a few moments to sort through the disorientation that comes with waking up in an unfamiliar place. Once she pulls herself together, however, she realizes that it's not really all that unfamiliar--she's in the Louvre Hotel. Last summer, she had been trapped her with Klavier, leading to one of the best nights she's had since arriving in Mayfield. Back in better times with him, before tensions and the subsequent droning. She feels a bit of a sting, both from the memory and from the realization that time is still flying by. She's been here too long.

This year, Ema's bedmate is none other than her assigned husband, Schuldig. In all honesty, she's not sure if this is to her benefit or her detriment; she's not sure she's up to spending a night here with Edward with memories of Klavier coming back into focus. At least with Schuldig, she doesn't have to make any choices that can lead to bruised egos and a needless sense of competitive jealousy. On the other hand, she does need to worry about having her brain picked apart. Why would the setting and the situation change Schuldig's M.O. any, especially when there are several new (and questionable) developments in her personal life to dig into? If anything, the extended period of time in which they'll be trapped will probably encourage it, since there's nothing better for them to do.

And, to make things even more awkward, she's wearing lingerie, the room is candle-lit, there are roses with them in the bed, and there's plenty of food and alcohol for them to share. For all parts and purposes, this is set up to be a lovers' evening. Between her and Schuldig. Who have a complicated partnership based on proximity and knowing way too much about the other. And who aren't inclined to take advantage of the setting.

Ema sighs deeply as she climbs out of the bed in search for a robe to cover herself. This is going to be an uncomfortable night.]
glowing_skye: (gentle green)
[A: Action]

[Sometime in the late morning, Ema Skye can be found in her kitchen making (or simply setting out) a variety of breakfast foods: scrambled eggs, bacon, biscuits, toast, muffins, fresh fruit, and so forth. There's even coffee and some mimosas made from all-American orange juice from Florida and some sparkling wine from California (not champagne, that's French!).

Why all the food? Well, because it's Independence Day and Ema's decided to have an open house for brunch, that's why! Both her front door and her back one are wide open, allowing smells from the kitchen to drift out into the street and neighboring properties.

Come grab a bite and say hello? An open door means an open invite, after all, and that's what good neighbors do.]



[B: Phone]

[A little later on--after talking to several people--Ema's concerned and more than a little confused.]

I don't know what's gotten into the water, but I'd like to know why everyone is suddenly acting like the Communists have taken over and we shouldn't believe anything we're told.

What the hell happened? I thought this was a place where we trusted each other.
glowing_skye: (*sigh*)
[Mayfield is no longer the town it once was. It's decimated, not unlike a warzone after a terrible battle... which, really, is exactly what this place is. The information that's starting to come in over the phones is no better--nothing conclusive, yet, but all of it unsettling. Ema almost longs for the squeaky-clean facade that she's grown accustomed to, as irritating as it was; at least that was familiar and somewhat predictable. This? This is carnage. This is the end of what patterns Ema had learned to expect from Mayfield. This is a need to rebuild. This is a horrible, overwhelming sense of uncertainty about the present and, more distressingly, about the future.

Ema really hates uncertainty.

However, it will do her no good to simply remain inactive, so she's forcing herself to pull herself together and press on. Now, more than ever, she wants to find a way out of here.]


[A: phone]
For all of you who came out to help with the Post Office investigation: thank you. The data is safe and I'm going to begin going through all that we've collected to see what we can make of it.

I hope you're all all right. And please consider keeping in touch; if we're going to learn how this place works, we'll need an active investigation team. If any of you saw something or heard something about what happened at the Dairy that you think is relevant to our interests, please let me know.

I'm going to inspect the damage and see if people are all right.


[B: housemates at 1492 Kramden Road]
[Ema is sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. She's preparing to head out and visit people she's worried about/see what she can do with the forensic data she's managed to collect. The briefcase is sitting right next to her, untouched so far.]


[C: around town]
[Ema's wandering, trying to take in everything. It's almost unfathomable, how much has changed over the past several days. She supposes she should start taking an inventory of what's been destroyed and what needs to be taken care of, but... she doesn't even know where to begin. She's trained as an investigator, not a rescue worker.

Therefore, Ema decides to focus on making sure the people she cares about are all right. If you know her fairly well, expect a knock at your door.]



[D: 5723 Cunningham Lane]
[Hi, Klavier, here's your girlfriend with some dinner and a bottle of wine. It's a little late for Valentine's Day and the circumstances are far from ideal, but... after everything that's just happened, they probably both need a night to destress and just be a couple.

She also has a briefcase for you to hold onto. She doesn't trust Schuldig not to tamper with it.]
glowing_skye: (*sigh*)
[Ema's still shaking off death number four--probably the worst one yet, given that Klavier was right behind her when she took the bullet to her head and probably ended up with no small amount of her blood on him--but the town is spiraling into chaos and she feels like she needs to do something. If not because it's the Right Thing to Do, which is generally her modus operandi in dealing with these things but is becoming harder and harder to justify with no tangible results, then because it will give her a much-needed sense of organization and structure.

There's a battle going on in the Dairy. Ema's smart enough to stay away from it; she's no soldier and has no desire to die a second time. There will be plenty of others headed that way to investigate what's there. She'll leave that to people who can defend themselves better than she can.

The Post Office is open. To Ema, that seems like the far more obvious destination. With the Postman dead, it's possible that all of the weirdness died with him... but there might be traces. She'd be remiss to skip the opportunity.

So, to the phones she goes:]


I'm not going to the Dairy. I'll be more of a liability than any help to anyone investigating there. Those of you who are going: good luck.

I am, however, headed to the Post Office to investigate any traces of anything that the Postman might have left behind. Anyone who's able or willing to help me there, please meet me there. If we comb the place over scientifically, we might find something useful. And if we don't find anything... that's data, too.

Data is the best weapon we have. I plan on arming myself as much as I can with it.


[Filtered to Edward Nigma, if he's even near his phone.]

Obviously, we're not meeting today.

[Awkward pause.]

Try not to get yourself killed.


[Filtered to Klavier Gavin.]

I hope you're okay.

I love you, and after all of this is over we're locking ourselves in a room somewhere for awhile and not opening it for anyone.



((ooc: I'm going to put up an actual log for this sometime later this evening! :) This investigation is moderator-approved. ))

ETA: Log can be found here!
glowing_skye: (Snackoo warrior!)
[Ema's still shaken from the whole angels thing (and the uncomfortable night she spent with a certain Edward Nigma while spirited away to wherever that was), but an opportunity like this doesn't come up every day. They're being given the chance to explore their world beyond the one town; she'd be remiss as an investigator if she didn't jump at the chance. Even if that's what the town wants her to do. Even if it will end up like Westport. Even if she dies horribly for it. Again.

Although she doesn't feel nearly as resolved about this as she'd like, Ema has made up her mind--she's going. Which is why guests and housemates can find her packing up a few bags and getting ready. She's even dared to take money out of the bank account (after much, much grief and a few lies to the drone banker), something for which she's sure to hear about from Schuldig later, if not now.

After her bags are packed, she takes it to the phones.]


I don't trust this.

But it's an opportunity I can't let pass by, so I'm going. However, I'm not an idiot--I won't survive alone if things go poorly. So I'm asking for people to come with me, assuming everyone hasn't already left. Scout? You around?

[Filtered to Klavier]

I'm sorry. I know you don't like when I do this.

I'll be glad to have you with us, if you're up to an investigation.

[Actually, she'd prefer he come with.]
glowing_skye: (tears)
[On Christmas morning, Ema finds a bag of Snackoos, a picture of her family, and a note under the tree. Idly munching the treats--thank you, Santa!--Ema reads the note and considers, finally deciding to give it a shot. She doesn't expect the cheesy 'close your eyes and believe in the heart of the cards spirit of Christmas!' tactic to amount to anything, honestly, but for some reason she's compelled to try it anyway. It can't hurt, right?

Oh, yes. Yes, it can.

For as long as Ema's able to hold the illusion, it's wonderful. She's home with Klavier, her friends--even those she'd made in Mayfield, somehow--her sister, even her parents! She's successful and doing the science she's always dreamed of. She's warm, safe, happy--happier than she's been in ages. It's as if the terrible things in her life have never even happened. Her parents are alive, Joe Darke and Damon Gant never ruined Ema and Lana's lives when she was fourteen, Mayfield isn't even a factor....

And then some snow falls from the roof outside, making a great deal of noise and spooking Ema into opening her eyes. The illusion is broken and everything is lost.

After a few moments of honest disorientation as she realizes what has just happened, Ema throws the Snackoos and the photo across the room with a loud scream of rage before breaking down into sobs.]


((Thanks to the Christmas event, Ema did not start her Christmas in a very merry way. Her mood will improve over the course of the day as she slowly gets over the emotional bitchslap, though. Feel free to tag into one of the following:

a. Housemates or holiday visitors are welcome to find Ema sitting on the floor in tears.

b. After Ema's cried it out a bit, she's going to go outside and walk around, getting some air before headed to Klavier's for the night. She's still upset, but god dammit she is going to have a nice Christmas or heads will roll, so she's trying to calm herself down.

c. Hi, Klavier, Merry Christmas! Have an Ema! Her eyes and nose are still swollen and a bit red, but she's putting on a smile and is coming over for Christmas as planned! Plus she has food and a present for you. Even if they can't have the perfect Christmas she imagined when Santa tricked her into believing that something like that could magically happen, that's no reason not to have a good holiday with what they have. Right?


Also, replies will be slow. Holiday and all. :) ))
glowing_skye: (blank stare)
You awaken in a hotel.

It's a classy hotel. The sheets on the vibrating bed are satin, and an almost inviting shade of red. There is a small table at the side of the room, atop which a single flickering candle illuminates the room. Your meal has been prepared on gleaming marble plates, and there are two chairs seated at the table.

The door, should you care to test it, is locked. The walls, should you care to test them, are unbreakable. The meal, should you care to test it, is delicious. Your wardrobe appears to have been misplaced: men will find themselves wearing a tuxedo and clip-on bow tie, while women have found themselves wearing an extremely clingy dress or racy lingerie. You appear to be clutching a bouquet of roses.

There is a mini-bar. It is extremely well-stocked.

It dawns on you as you look around the room that this is, without a shadow of doubt, a hotel for lovers. A Lover's Hotel, if you will.

It also dawns on you that you are not alone.



[Ema wakes up sprawled across the bed wearing less than she's usually comfortable with. The room is equally unfamiliar, although it's quite intimate in its design. It's obviously a hotel room, and Ema groans softly. Looks like they didn't even get a choice about the discount weekend; they were spending time at the Louvre Hotel whether they wanted to or not.

It occurs to Ema that she's not alone--someone's in the bed with her. She rolls over to see who it is and breaths a sigh of relief. Her bedmate is Klavier. Even though she has no idea where she is, at least she's with someone she cares about and not some stranger... or, worse, Schuldig.

Gently, she gives him a shake.]


You awake?
glowing_skye: (guhhhh)
[The Mayfield Ema wakes up in is very different from the Mayfield in which she fell asleep. It's ridiculously early--the sun isn't even up yet--but her drone husband is already up and getting dressed. He notices that she's awake.]

доброе утро. You've overslept this morning; it's already 4:30am. You should get dressed so that you can get started with your investigations.

[Wait... what the hell?! Where did that Russian accent come from? And what does he mean by 'investigations'? Does he know what she's been up to?

Rubbing her eyes as she climbs out of bed, Ema pads over to the window and looks out at the landscape. It's nothing at all like the suburbian sight she's grown used to; this is much grayer, darker, colder. A large factory overwhelms the rest of the town, already spewing smoke into the still-dark air. It takes Ema a few minutes, but it finally clicks: She's now in the Soviet Union of the 1950s. Damn everything.

Her drone husband leaves, saying something about inspecting beets at the factory. Ema dresses, noting with disdain that her lab coat is nowhere to be found, and goes to head out herself. Just outside her door she finds a letter explaining what her assigned job is. She's an Investigator, responsible for investigating reports of subversive activity.

Ema just laughs. It's the humorless, almost-painful laugh of someone who knows she's the butt of some kind of cosmic joke but doesn't know how else to deal with it. She's not sure if this is Mayfield's way of telling her that they know what she's been up to, or if it's just their way of being jackasses about her real life back home. Either way, it stings a bit.

Once Ema gets over herself and has something to eat (beets, since that seems to be the only food she has), she heads out. At the very least, she'll be free to walk around at her leisure and see what the hell is going on.]



((tl;dr - Ema Comrade Skye wandering the streets wondering what the hell she's supposed to be investigating, since she has not received any reports of "subversive activity" as of yet. Feel free to approach her! :D ))

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Ema Skye

May 2013

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