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: (tears)
[Klavier's droned. For good.

Needless to say, Ema's taken the discovery pretty hard. The two of them had been together for over a year after arriving within a few months of each other. Yes, lately things had been strained, but they had been working through it. Klavier was her rock, the man who gave her comfort when the town hit her too hard, the man who held her and assured her that she was brave (if reckless) and was doing the right thing.

He loved her. And she loved him. Loves him.

And now? All of that is gone, ripped out from underneath her. She has no rock, no lover to turn to. Mayfield has, effectively, taken away the most important foundation she has in her network of allies.]


Phone:
Okay, Mayfield. I get it. We're all supposed to be miserable. There's not supposed to be any joy here. Fine.

Lesson learned.

[After a long pause.]

For anyone who knew him: Klavier's been droned.

[And she hangs up.]

A: 1492 Kramden Road
[Ema's only home for coffee and a meal. Both are sitting in front of her, half touched. Her expression is distant, as if she's not really there at all.]

B: in and around 5723 Cunningham Lane
[Ema has already torn through the house once today, tearing through Klavier's belongings in order to discern whether his droning was permanent or not. There's no reason for her to return; it's not like she can simply wish him back. Logically speaking, she's done with the address for now.

And yet, she's hanging around nearby, looking up at the house and sighing heavily as she thinks things over. Occasionally, some impotent anger flares in her and she throws something at the front door. She isn't sure if she's more depressed or more angry, so she's letting herself swing wildly between the two.]


C: John Doe Park
[Ema finally settles in the park, sitting on a park bench and drinking herself stupid. She knows this is a terrible way to react--it's letting the town win, in a way--but she needs to simply sit and be miserable. Tomorrow is for bouncing back and taking action. Today is for drinking until she feels better.

Unsurprisingly, it's not working. Several bottles are scattered on the ground around her. And Ema looks like she's ready to cry. Really, she's wanted to cry all day--it's just that she's finally ready to let herself do so]
glowing_skye: (not trusting you)
[Phone; Filtered from drones and the higher-ups]

I really hope everyone's recovering from all the... everything. And I hope those of you who were stupid enough to fall for it are happy with yourselves. This town never, ever gives anything up so easily. They're just messing with our heads.

Now that we've had some time to calm down and re-evaluate, I'd like to put this forward. Information is our best defense here. And I know there have been investigations carried out in the past, both by myself and by other people. But I don't think there's an actual investigative body among our resistance? I think we should form one.

I don't know what kind of spearhead I could be--all I've managed to do is get people together to collect forensic data on the Postman when we though he was dead--but... I'm willing to at least try and organize everyone. Please, if you can help, consider it.

[Filtered to Klavier]

How are you holding up? Did anything happen to you while everyone was killing each other?

[Residents of 1492 Kramden Drive]

[Ema's sitting in the kitchen, sipping some coffee and writing up some notes.

There's plenty to share.]
glowing_skye: (not trusting you)
[Filtered to one certain Edward Nigma.]

Edward?

We need to talk. About what happened at prom and about the ridiculous amount of chocolate you left on my porch.

[Amazingly enough, she doesn't sound angry or even annoyed. Simply serious.]
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: (anger)
Before we all start tearing into each other over the Postman's phone call and his accidental reveal: don't. I can't imagine wanting to stay in this hellhole, but I have a better place to return to. Someone pointed out to me that not everyone here does. [See, Scout? She listens!]

I have a feeling that we're going to have to stick together through whatever Lucy and the milkman throw at us.


[Filtered to "Alice, Charles, Rika, Empress and Harry"]
I'd like to speak with you.
glowing_skye: (anger)
[Ema's finally feeling better!

Too bad she's too angry at the universe to really appreciate that fact. After being terrorized by Schuldig* and receiving a peice of leather with her handprint on it, Ema is not in a good mood.

Judging from her tone, it's incredibly obvious.]


Investigation people? What's our status?


[Filtered to Klavier]

Is it okay if I come over for awhile? Otherwise I might end up punching a certain redhead in the face. [And he would probably snap her neck, so that's something to be avoided.]




* ((Trigger warning for abusive relationships. It veers really close.))

~thirty~

Nov. 18th, 2010 08:23 pm
glowing_skye: (guhhhh)
[Ema has been putting this off long enough. It's time for another installment of Awkward Conversations You Never Want to Have With Your Boyfriend!

Today's episode: Spicy Tasting Candy Corn Made Me a Bit Easy, Oops.

As such, she'll be calling Klavier on the phone first to make sure he's available and willing to talk to her.]


[Filtered SO HARD to Klavier.]

Hey there. You free this afternoon?
glowing_skye: (hmph)
[Ema died again.

This time, it was thanks to one of the Medic Zombie Twins feasting on her brains. After she hit on/made out with a bunch of people she probably shouldn't have hit on/made out with. Needless to say, Ema wakes up not only shaken from dying again in a short period of time, but also embarrassed and extremely irritated about everything that happened yesterday.

To the phones! Her tone is cranky, but those who know her well enough will probably be able to discern a great deal of discomfort directly behind it.]

I hope everyone's figured this out by now, but don't eat the damn candy. Throw it out, set it on fire, drown it in a toxic chemical--whatever it takes to keep you from trying one. I know it's tempting, but it's not worth it.

[Awkward pause.]

To anyone I talked to while I was... affected... I'm not usually like that. And I'm not interested except in exactly one of you. [Hi Klavier! ♥] So don't get any ideas.

[Another pause.]

Also, look out for zombies. They won't hesitate to kill you.

If you need me, I'll be taking a shower. A long one. No one else is invited.

glowing_skye: (blank stare)
[The call comes from 1247 Williams Road.

No filters. What's the point in it?]


Klavier? Scout? Everyone?

Please tell me you're all right.

I'm fine; I'm at 1247 Williams Road and probably will remain here for the foreseeable future... I came over earlier to help a friend with a project that might help protect innocents.

It's not necessarily safe inside, but it seems safer than going outside or being at home.

Stay safe, all of you.
glowing_skye: (blank stare)
[Filtered SO HARD to Ken Hidaka.]

You didn't warn me about the Berserker.

[He can probably tell by the tone of her voice that she's on the verge of a panic attack or something similar to it. No wonder.]

~ ~ ~

[And after that conversation's over, Ema's off to freak out at her boyfriend. Hope you're feeling up to calming her down, Klavier!]

~ ~ ~

[And after that, Ema's back home the following morning to bitch at Schuldig about it/pack some belongings for her next round of I-hate-sleeping-at-home housecalls.]
glowing_skye: (guhhhh)
[Filtered from Drones, Smiths, Grady, the Milkman, the Post Office.]

Did anyone actually manage to get a word in with Sergei Smirnov? He grabbed my arm while I was walking down the street last night, but he vanished before I could even react to him.

And filter your damn replies. I feel like this goes without saying, but just... double check, okay? I don't like this at all.


Also, Schuldig's droned... it's kind of creepy, to be honest.


[This is mostly a placeholder, since I'm off to pass out after a long day. I'll tag back tomorrow evening! ♥ NOW. Sorry about the long wait; RL happened. orz ]
glowing_skye: (not trusting you)
[So the investigation at the Smith house was a bust. Honestly, Ema's lucky to have gotten out of there injury-and-death-free.

She's more than a little frustrated with the time wasted, but no matter. She has a Major General to talk to.]


[Filtered to Olivier Armstrong.]

I hope you found more information the other night at the party than I did; I've learned more from listening on the phones than I did tearing their house apart. You weren't hurt or anything, were you?

In any case, this is me officially offering myself to your service. Just let me know what you need me to look into.
glowing_skye: (hmph)
[Filtered to Klavier and Apollo even though the latter's been permadroned.]

We're going to that "night of fun" at the Smiths.

[Judging from her tone, this is not a question.]


[Action! Ema needs to ask her not!husband a favor, even though she might regret it for all eternity...]

Schuldig, you wouldn't happen to have that gun anymore, would you? [It's not her preferred line of defense, nor is Schuldig her preferred method of procuring a weapon, but... going in unarmed just seems foolhardy, and a firearm would work better than a spray bottle of bleach.]


((ooc: Bringing Ema out of hiatus because this event is a can't-miss opportunity for her interests! :D ))

~eighteen~

Aug. 28th, 2010 03:53 pm
glowing_skye: (pout)
[Filtered to Klavier Gavin and Maes Hughes.]

So it seems like someone's starting a book club for real.

Should we continue with our plan as-is, or do we need to come up with a different kind of club?
glowing_skye: (guhhhh)
[Ema wakes up in her bedroom, which is the first indication that something's Not Right. She hasn't spent the night in this room since Schuldig arrived, and she certainly doesn't remember going to sleep in it. As a matter of fact, she struggles to remember where she fell asleep last night, which is indication number two.

Scrambling out of her bed, Ema has to dig through her dresser to find her lab coat, which was laundered and impeccably folded at some point before being placed in the bottommost drawer. Indication number three.

A sense of dread fills her as she checks the date, which confirms her fears. It is the morning of Tuesday, August 17th. The last date she remembers is August 6th, eleven days ago. Ema Skye has just come out of an extended droning.

After a scream of utter frustration, she takes to the phones.]


What have I missed?



((Guess who's back? :D Housemates are welcome to find a very distressed Ema, everyone else is welcome to greet her and explain the wonders of the new post office!))
glowing_skye: (not trusting you)
[Filtered to Maes Hughes and Klavier Gavin.]

Mr. Hughes? Klavier and I have an idea, whenever you're ready to go forward with the Smith infiltration.

Also, have you talked to a man named Cynric? He has--or had--a very interesting article that I'm sure you'd like to see.



[Filtered from drones/Mayor/Grady/milkman/your mom]

Now that we're a week out from our glorious week of hell, how is everyone doing? Does anyone still need anything?

~eleven~

Jul. 6th, 2010 08:58 pm
glowing_skye: (pout)
Um... Mr. Glorious Party Leader person? Or that creepy Russia guy, whoever.

How am I supposed to investigate reports of subversive activity if I haven't actually received any? A little help here would be appreciated.

[No, Ema doesn't sound perturbed at all~ Whatever gives you that idea?]
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