Anchor In Time

Indefinite Haitus

Rogue Missions

INTIMIDATING

I have a feeling Doug has a lot of stamina so I would put him in the 10k Olympic race. He'd just daydream and tune out for the entire run and then snap out of his reverie when he crashes across the finish line, smashing the prior world record. For Jane, since competitive pole dancing isn't a recognized sport, I would say she pole vaults. Everyone crowds the stadium just to watch her leap over the bar C8

Jane would compete in power boating. I know it's not continued anymore, but I can totally imagine her driving around like James Bond. Mr. Delancy would do climbing. He seems to get into that tree quite easily... <3

((Synchro swimming! \ouo/ ))

((Track and field...I can see Jane doing stuff like Javelin and hurdles))

((Haven't been able to decide for Jane yet but I've decided that Douglas would look fabulous in the equestrian events. 8'D ))

(( Artistic Gymnastics for Mrs. Delancy. XD ))

Which Olympic sport would my characters compete in?

Just to be clear, Mia is well aware of the risks involved in potentially helping rogues, and I doubt she'd be open about it given the way most people reacted to turn coats in the last round (with violence). She wouldn't necessarily be open with the rogues either, because they pose a threat to her and her monsters in her mind, even if she thinks they are onto something good. (also, it'd kind of go against the way she is developing to stop just because of the danger).

"Copacetc Sir, just swell." John rattles under Dang's friendly gesture. "I'll be tappin' my feet till then." He eagerly scoots off to catch up on some much needed service, which stays well in-demand until the dull morning hours peel away his guests, one by one.

Miss Delancy, following Ecruteak, are any of your recruits suffering from psychological stress or severe emotional trauma? How would you/are you dealing with this issue?

You hang out in speakeasies very often, Mrs. Delancy? You grew up to be such a fancy law-abiding government woman. It's hard to picture a younger you creeping below ground and speaking in passwords for a little bit of panther piss and a good swing. I guess there was no such thing as good and bad back then, was there?