The Draminov Cases - Part 1

[Guardsmith]

On Thursday, March 22, 2007, the sun rose in Boston at 6:45 AM, almost a full three minutes earlier than the day before. The vernal equinox had occurred the previous Tuesday and with the daytime temperatures expected to reach the mid 50s, it appeared as though spring might really have arrived.

Bostonians, however, were cautious. They’d been deceived before. Just as recently as last week, Mother Nature had followed two days of milder than normal weather with rain, snow, wind and bitter cold.

This day, however, was different. As people started their daily routines, they were optimistic that winter was finally over, and with the change in the Earth’s axial tilt to bolster them, they were confident that change was in the air.

[sblock=OOC]Please describe a normal weekday morning for your character, up through about noon.[/sblock]

 

[Rhun]

The blaring alarm roused Damon Knight from his slumber. He woke with a start, his body wet with a cold sweat. The nightmares again...always the nightmares. With a groan, he rolled out of his bed and went to the bathroom, to get ready for the day ahead.

After a quick shower, Damon dressed for work. Black dress slacks and a dark gray mock-turtleneck, over which he put on a black sportcoat. He took a moment to gulp down a mug of instant coffee, sweetened with plenty of sugar, and then grabbed his keys and headed for the door.

Locking the door to his small apartment, he smiled as he stepped out into the sun. He'd been looking forward to the warmer weather for some time. He wondered again why he choose to stay in Boston; that job in Arizona would have at least made for more pleasant winters.

Putting on his sunglasses, he walked to the carport and stradled his Ducati. The purr of the engine was music to his ears, and he shifted the bike into gear and pulled out onto the streets of Boston. The ride to work was pleasant enough; riding was so much nicer than being cooped up in a car.

After flashing his ID card to the guards at the gate of the Anderson-Hughes Corporation, he pulled in and found a parking spot close to the building. Moving into the lobby, Damon flashed a smile at the pretty receptionist...he'd gone out with her a few times, but she had been anything but intellectually stimulating. He continued on, reporting to AHC security center.

After the morning briefing, Damon found himself with several mundane security tasks to be taken care of. Another day, another dollar. Still, by the time noon rolled around, Damon found himself wishing for a break from the monotony.

 

[Mista Collins]

Waking up at 5:00am without an alarm going off, Carl's circadian rhythm has been set for years. His mental alarm clock has been flawless for plenty of years. Even when the voices he used to hear kept him from getting sleep, his body would wake up at 5:00am every morning.

Deciding to skip his morning run, Carl took his time to get ready in the morning before heading into work at 8:00am. A little hungry, Carl started cooking himself breakfast. This morning he decided to only go with one egg and some fruit as he had plans of going out for a big lunch on his break today. Once the egg was scrambled, Carl sat down with the paper and browsed over the articles while drinking his herbal tea. Good to see the Red Sox are above .500 in the Grapefruit League right now. Hopefully come playoff time, they'll be in the running and able to stop Detroit or the White Sox.

Finished with the paper and since he didn't go on his morning run, he had extra time on his hands before having to go into work. With not much else to do, he went into the station early to get ahead on some of the paperwork he had to do today.

His morning went by quickly and as he found himself buried in more paperwork than he remembered being behind on. As soon as noon rolled around, Carl grabbed his spring jacket from the coat rack next to his desk, and walked to the Lobster Bistro not to far from the station. Sitting down and ordering a large bowl of Clam Chowder and a Seafood Caesar Salad, Carl pulled the book he's been reading from the inside of his spring jacket pocket and turned to the page he bookmarked last night and continued where he left off.

 

[Jemal]

For a man like Louis Derroux, there wasn't an 'ordinary' day, though today was one of the more mundane ones. He'd gotten in last night at around 3 AM from his late-night walk. Nothing.. again.. He was starting to think he wasn't going to find them.. OR 'him'.

It was another 10 days until the next tournament, he had no classes to teach this month, and no girlfriend. It had been the same for a while now, and Louis... was... BORED. He wasn't exactly rich, but never had to worry about paying the bills, and he wasn't the kind of guy to get a full-time job just to while the time away.

Louis awoke that morning at a quarter to eleven. He got out of bed at about 20 minutes past, showered, dressed, and decided to head out for some food at the mall while figuring out what to do today.

 

[Insight]

Gregory Spears

8:31am
Greg was able to sleep in a bit today, but soon, Fenway Park would once again be open for business, as the Red Sox broke camp in Florida and returned to Boston. For now, Greg took a few odd jobs as a courier to make ends meet in the offseason. No call yet this morning, so probably no jobs for today. As usual. This courier gig was not at all what Greg had envisioned. Barely paying the rent as is. Hopefully, Greg would get a pay raise in his usher job, or he'd need to find something else.

Getting up, Greg went to his desk and lifting the lid on his laptop, waited patiently as the operating system came to life. Checked email. Nothing important. Check the news of the day. Bah, same old, same old. Had the Red Sox decided on their fourth and fifth starters?

15 minutes of the typical. About once a week, Greg would check an obscure, underground message board for people with interests akin to his own. Spellcasters, or in his case, would-be spellcasters.

xcastercentral.org was a welcome refuge for Greg Spears, where he could swap stories and theories with other arcane spellcasters, and this morning, Greg spent about 35 minutes reading some new materials.

9:22am
Greg moved to the bathroom to take care of his daily necessities. During this time, he would read several magazines in his "other office": PC Gamer, Hardware, Information Security, and Blacklisted.

10:46am
It was now time to do some work. Greg used his laptop to call up some spells from his collection, and set out to try to understand them. One in particular seemed useful, and Greg was close to understanding how to summon forth arcane energy and form it into a blast that could damage foes. He also spent time looking into a spell that would put a target under simple mind control. Could be quite useful.

12:01pm
Greg finally put on some "outside clothes" and looked through his cell phone logs to see if anyone had called. Nothing. Oh well, maybe catch some lunch and see what's going on downtown.

 

[Salthorae]

Rising early at 4am for his first surgery of the week, Jeriah quickly eats breakfast, plain toast with non-caffinated herbal tea. Not bothering to shower in his rundown apartment, Jeriah dresses, grabs one of his many books on the occult, and heads into work at the Boston Medical Center.

Once at the hospital, Jeriah meets with his surgery team to go over the pre-op details, reminding them as always to pay attention to "details, details, details" as he has become known for saying at the end of any meeting. Satisfied that there wouldn't be any undue complications with the procedure that morning, Jeriah quickly scoots off to the doctor's dressing room and showers in order to clean up properly before the operation. It would be a quick Endarterectomy and then he had to finish up the paper work.

A couple of slight complications held up the procedure, but they were both manageable. By 11 am he was in his office working on paper work detailing the surgery for the patient's medical records and detailing the complications for future reference as well. It pays to be thorough, so sayeth Papa Jeriah thinks as he finishes typing up his notes on the surgery.

Glancing quickly at the clock he realizes with a start that it is already time for lunch. Filing the report with a nurse on duty, Jeriah grabs his latest book on the occult and heads to India Samraat for some lunch before his afternoon consultations began.

 

[Guardsmith]

[sblock=For all] OOC: I'd like everyone to use spoiler blocks for the next little bit, as I'll be interacting with everyone as individuals. I'll let you know when its OK to openly post again. Thanks! [/sblock]

[sblock=For Damon Knight] As if in answer to his silent request, one of the company’s many administrative assistants approaches Damon. You think her name might be Cheryl, but you’re not sure. You do remember, however, that she is the one you were told to avoid at the Christmas party, as she tends to be “clingy” after she’s had a couple of drinks.

“Mr. Knight? This just arrived for you by courier,” she says. In her hand is a brown #10 envelope addressed in handwritten script to Mr. Damon Knight at Anderson-Hughes Corporation.[/sblock]

[sblock=For Carl Unger]As you return to your desk from lunch, the temp Police Administrative Assistant for your squad almost collides with as she comes out of the break room.

“Oops! Sorry,” she says as she almost spills microwave hot coffee on you while stumbling on her red, five-inch heels. “Oh, it’s you, Mr. Unger,” she continues, pronouncing your name “Unjer”. “The Desk Sergeant brought up something that he said a bike messenger dropped off for you. I put it on your desk.”

You arrive at your desk to notice a brown #10 envelope addressed in handwritten script to Mr. Carl Unger at the Boston Police Department.[/sblock]

[sblock=Louis Derroux]As you a preparing to walk out of your apartment, you notice a brown #10 envelope near the door. It must have been slipped under as you were showering. It is addressed in handwritten script to Mr. Louis Derroux at your current address.[/sblock]

[sblock=For Gregory Spears]As you a preparing to walk out of your apartment, you notice a standard letter envelope near the door. It must have been slipped under as you were concentrating on studying. It is addressed in handwritten script to Mr. Edward Spears at your current address.[/sblock]

[sblock=For Jeriah Shammah] As you return to your office from lunch, you notice a brown #10 envelope on your desk, that wasn’t there when you left. It is addressed in handwritten script to Dr. Jeriah Shammah at Boston Medical Center.[/sblock]

 

[Salthorae]

[sblock=For Guardsmith]His eyebrow raised, Jeriah picks up the envelope to see if it has any postal markings on it at all. Walking to the doorway of his office as he begins to open the envelope, Jeriah asks the secretary that serves him and a few of the other doctors: "Ellie, did you see who dropped this off? Did they say anything?"

With that he looks at the envelope's contents.[/sblock]

 

[Jemal]

[sblock=For the DM]Louis opens the envelope, looking at what's inside. If there's a lot, he'll take it with him to read while he eats, otherwise he'll just read it there.[/sblock]

 

[Rhun]

[sblock=For Guardsmith]

"Thank you," says Damon absently to the woman, taking the envelope and looking it over. He wasn't expecting anything...it was unusual to get correspondence such as this at the office.

Taking a letter opener from the desk, Damon slits the envelope, and slowly draws out its contents.

[/sblock]