Hello, I'm Mary Fisk. I enjoy art and photography. You can usually find me around the city taking pictures or drawing. I also own an ice cream shop called @icy-treats. I am happily married to @wilsonfisk-thekingpin. This is my precious daughter @katherine-fisk, be nice to her!Thanks for coming to see me!
Once upon a time there was a pretty little girl who poisoned all she touched. Some called her Mary, others called her Typhoid. Everytime she let out a sweet breath, someone else fell dead. She was sweet, she was toxic she was Typhoid. Once upon a time. Once upon a time. Once upon a time. Once upon a time.
Hey, I'm Walker.
Please, don't touch my stuff. I have dissociative identity disorder... I usually manage my condition, I take necessary precautions to guard against it. I'm a private investigator, for a fee, I will look into whatever you wish for me to. I am pretty good at hand to hand combat. I can make your problems go away, so long as you're paying me to do so. That's it. Bye.
Mod Notes:
This is a roleplay account, please feel free to send a message through the ask box. My DMs are open.
I am 21, I don't do NSFW, but let me know if swearing makes you uncomfortable.
I am doing my best to play the character as accurately as possible. All rights to the character belong to Marvel.
● Tags
Please be aware that homophobia, racism, sexism, hatred, or discrimination of any kind will not be tolerated here.
#mary speaks, mary fisk - Mary Fisk is talking
#bloody mary, bloody speaks- Bloody Mary is speaking
#typhoid mary, typhoid speaks- Typhoid Mary is speaking
# walker speaks, walker - Walker is speaking
#character switch - An indicator that the character I was playing previously has switched to another, this will help to navigate Mary's many different personalities
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Typhoid was seated on the couch, her curls prominent a flame floated above her hand. She smiled when she saw her daughter approaching, "Good morning, darling." She greeted her, allowing the flame to be extinguished. Her eyes twinkled with excitement, as she continued, "Do you want to take a trip?"
@maryfisk
Katherine freezes at the door. In her hand was a beautiful hand blow vase filled - stuffed practically - with white roses. The roses where splattered with paint of all sorts of colors. A tag pinned to a sparkling silver ribbon was written in Kaya's swirly cursive.
"I'm not hearing a no." Typhoid smiled, standing up and walking to the door Katherine had just entered through, she looped her arm around her daughter's and dragged her along. "Come on, my darling, we have much to accomplish today!"
"W-wait, let me set this down so it doesnt break!" Feeling Typhoid's arm link with hers, Kaya snaps out of her surprised daze. She carefully reaches out to set the vase on the coffee table. Then she pulls out her phone. Thankful for the privacy screen on it, she thumbs a quick text as she talks then slips the phone back into her pocket. "Where did you want to go, Mom?"
Typhoid was far from focused on both the flower filled vase and the phone in Kaya's hand, their destination was the only thing on her mind. The door to the penthouse let out a click as Typhoid telekinetically locked it.
"It's a surprise!" Typhoid answered in a singsong voice, while pressing the button to the elevator in rapid succession, though she glanced to the window, during their wait; Briefly debating whether to use that as opposed to the elevator.
Just before she could act, the elevator doors opened, pulling her attention and her daughter into the newly awaiting room. She pressed the button to the lobby, closing the doors telekinetically.
She waited as they descended through the building, her foot tapping in a blur against the floor, "We should install a button to make this thing go faster! We should have been on the first floor right now!"
"Any faster and the gravity might just kill us," Kaya sighs. She keeps an arm looped through Typhoid's. She knew she would have to be very careful about this. But maybe if she played along and watched herself, she could ease Typhoid's usual rampage.
"At least we'd die having a good time!" She replied nonchalantly, her fingers tapped against Kaya's arm.
"We should go to the zoo, you like the zoo, right?" She asked, already charting a path straight to the Bronx from their location. "Sure there's a few buildings in the way, but we should be able to get there easy peasy."
"Or we can take an airship! We'll need new outfits!" She snapped her fingers, in an instant they were wearing pirate costumes.
Typhoid wore a captains hat, an eye patch, a white long sleeved shirt, a red coat with the letter T in gold on the pocket, black trousers, and brown boots.
Kaya's outfit transformed into a red bandana, a white flowy shirt, a red vest that reached to her waistline. A telescope was clipped onto the belt holding up her black trousers, their line of sight was cut off by the brown boots that matched Typhoid's.
Typhoid was seated on the couch, her curls prominent a flame floated above her hand. She smiled when she saw her daughter approaching, "Good morning, darling." She greeted her, allowing the flame to be extinguished. Her eyes twinkled with excitement, as she continued, "Do you want to take a trip?"
@maryfisk
Katherine freezes at the door. In her hand was a beautiful hand blow vase filled - stuffed practically - with white roses. The roses where splattered with paint of all sorts of colors. A tag pinned to a sparkling silver ribbon was written in Kaya's swirly cursive.
"I'm not hearing a no." Typhoid smiled, standing up and walking to the door Katherine had just entered through, she looped her arm around her daughter's and dragged her along. "Come on, my darling, we have much to accomplish today!"
"W-wait, let me set this down so it doesnt break!" Feeling Typhoid's arm link with hers, Kaya snaps out of her surprised daze. She carefully reaches out to set the vase on the coffee table. Then she pulls out her phone. Thankful for the privacy screen on it, she thumbs a quick text as she talks then slips the phone back into her pocket. "Where did you want to go, Mom?"
Typhoid was far from focused on both the flower filled vase and the phone in Kaya's hand, their destination was the only thing on her mind. The door to the penthouse let out a click as Typhoid telekinetically locked it.
"It's a surprise!" Typhoid answered in a singsong voice, while pressing the button to the elevator in rapid succession, though she glanced to the window, during their wait; Briefly debating whether to use that as opposed to the elevator.
Just before she could act, the elevator doors opened, pulling her attention and her daughter into the newly awaiting room. She pressed the button to the lobby, closing the doors telekinetically.
She waited as they descended through the building, her foot tapping in a blur against the floor, "We should install a button to make this thing go faster! We should have been on the first floor right now!"
Typhoid was seated on the couch, her curls prominent a flame floated above her hand. She smiled when she saw her daughter approaching, "Good morning, darling." She greeted her, allowing the flame to be extinguished. Her eyes twinkled with excitement, as she continued, "Do you want to take a trip?"
@maryfisk
Katherine freezes at the door. In her hand was a beautiful hand blow vase filled - stuffed practically - with white roses. The roses where splattered with paint of all sorts of colors. A tag pinned to a sparkling silver ribbon was written in Kaya's swirly cursive.
"I'm not hearing a no." Typhoid smiled, standing up and walking to the door Katherine had just entered through, she looped her arm around her daughter's and dragged her along. "Come on, my darling, we have much to accomplish today!"
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"You. Your life." Typhoid answered, she walked over to the woman. "The end of your life."
"You're a problem. Always have been. I need you to pick a way to end it."
"Here's what your options are."
"Number one, you can take this sword and use it to kill yourself. Number two, you can refuse Number one and I'll kill you myself. Number three... There is no number three."
She tilted her head, unsheathed her sword. "What's it gonna be, darling? Do pick quickly, I don't have all day! Tick, tick, tick, time's getting away and so is my patience."
Typhoid hummed softly, one small bit of metal in Gao's hand. She could sense it. It was better than her plan. She was flexible, she could work with that.
"Gao, Krahllak is gone because you didn't defend it properly. Your life is forfeit by proxy." Typhoid twirled her finger in the air, flames danced around her fingertips seconds later. A distraction from the needle she was controlling. She sent the needle directly into Gao's hand. When it pierced her flesh, she pushed it further, burying it into the nearest vein. "This isn't my first time killing you, but it will be my last. You should have stayed dead, hon."
She approached the woman, allowing the fire to engulf her blade. "Especially after what you did to my daughter."
In a harsh swing she landed a blow to the woman's stomach, when she doubled over she landed a secondary swing to the back of her neck. The movement was precise, enough to damage her spinal cord.
"You. Your life." Typhoid answered, she walked over to the woman. "The end of your life."
"You're a problem. Always have been. I need you to pick a way to end it."
"Here's what your options are."
"Number one, you can take this sword and use it to kill yourself. Number two, you can refuse Number one and I'll kill you myself. Number three... There is no number three."
She tilted her head, unsheathed her sword. "What's it gonna be, darling? Do pick quickly, I don't have all day! Tick, tick, tick, time's getting away and so is my patience."
The Plaza Hotel was aglow, warm lights from within the building cascaded down the stairs, welcoming the guests the city's mayor had invited. It was a rare occasion, The Plaza Hotel of all places opening their doors to everyone. One phone call was all it took.
Tonight the Hotel would be responsible for more than just housing the elite that dwelled within it's walls, they would be providing the backdrop for the charity work that the Fisk Administration had promised. Various organizations would depend on the funding raised from FEAST and Green Cross to Médecins Sans Frontières and the Fisk Foundation, as well as all those in between. Money earned would be split evenly tonight.
Guests were met by an usher who guided them to the Grand Ballroom. A dazzling chandelier sent sparkling light cascading through the room, dresses and suits alike, would glitter and glow tonight. Tables had been set up for those who wished to partake in wining and dining, menus were placed amongst the centerpieces, a secondary option for those dissatisfied with the options provided. Waiters traveled with plates of hor d'œuvres, small bite sized snacks for the guests, such as deviled eggs, smoked salmon, mini crab cakes, caprese skewers, beef as well as tofu sliders, and skewers containing green grapes and strawberries shaped into roses.
There was an additional table set up nearby which had refreshments: Bottled water, raspberry coconut margaritas, old fashioned, mint juleps, whiskey sours, la grande dame, and pêche mignon. In addition to the drinks, a trio of four tiered stands from the bottom up held tea sandwiches, scones, a variety of cheeses, and macaroons, staff members stood nearby ready to assist if help was required and replenish the supplies.
An orchestra was set up on the stage, orchestral arrangements of Holiday songs playing in the background, an effort not to overpower the conversations that were bound to happen tonight.
The mayor signaled for them to stop as he stepped up to the microphone onstage, "I would like to welcome everyone to the Holiday Gala." He paused, allowing for applause, and then continued. "This is your night, a night for the people of our city to come together, from all walks of life. As much as it is important to acknowledge the bad that has happened this year, it is equally important to celebrate the triumphs."
"New Yorkers, we survived attacks by The Void, blackouts that left us powerless, zombies that descended upon our city, the seeds of divisiveness the Friends of Humanity tried to sow between us, and natural disasters that saw our great city flooded. This year, we emerge triumphant over everything that came our way."
"In light of all we have faced, I encourage all of you to take this night, dance, sing, and perhaps, most importantly, donate to the organizations that have been working to help when the odds are stacked against everyday people. We have representatives from FEAST, Green Cross, Médecins Sans Frontières and the Fisk Foundation. Not only are they here to tell you what they do, but they are also here to garner your support for their causes. Anything you can donate is appreciated, and it will be doubled with contributions from the Fisk Administration. Thank you, all of you, for coming here tonight. There is food and refreshments, feel free to help yourself." Fisk stepped away from the microphone, the orchestra picked up in volume, continuing with their rendition of the song they had paused.
The ballroom was lively, chatter filled the room as those in attendance got into the swing of things.
Tags, but be aware, this is an open RP, hop in at your leisure:
Wilson excused himself from his prior conversation and turned to Elektra. This was an event for the people, he himself would honor that. "What can I help you with?"
"I was wondering how your wife is doing, she left her purse and her sketchbook at an unconventional place. I have them both, if she would like to come collect them."
"I am sure she would find it preferable if you raised your concerns with regard to her whereabouts yourself." Wilson replied, nodding in the direction of his beloved wife. "She is right over there."
Mary's face lit up with joy when she heard the news, "You do? I've been looking everywhere for them. I had called the cops about it and everything. Where did you find them?"
The Plaza Hotel was aglow, warm lights from within the building cascaded down the stairs, welcoming the guests the city's mayor had invited. It was a rare occasion, The Plaza Hotel of all places opening their doors to everyone. One phone call was all it took.
Tonight the Hotel would be responsible for more than just housing the elite that dwelled within it's walls, they would be providing the backdrop for the charity work that the Fisk Administration had promised. Various organizations would depend on the funding raised from FEAST and Green Cross to Médecins Sans Frontières and the Fisk Foundation, as well as all those in between. Money earned would be split evenly tonight.
Guests were met by an usher who guided them to the Grand Ballroom. A dazzling chandelier sent sparkling light cascading through the room, dresses and suits alike, would glitter and glow tonight. Tables had been set up for those who wished to partake in wining and dining, menus were placed amongst the centerpieces, a secondary option for those dissatisfied with the options provided. Waiters traveled with plates of hor d'œuvres, small bite sized snacks for the guests, such as deviled eggs, smoked salmon, mini crab cakes, caprese skewers, beef as well as tofu sliders, and skewers containing green grapes and strawberries shaped into roses.
There was an additional table set up nearby which had refreshments: Bottled water, raspberry coconut margaritas, old fashioned, mint juleps, whiskey sours, la grande dame, and pêche mignon. In addition to the drinks, a trio of four tiered stands from the bottom up held tea sandwiches, scones, a variety of cheeses, and macaroons, staff members stood nearby ready to assist if help was required and replenish the supplies.
An orchestra was set up on the stage, orchestral arrangements of Holiday songs playing in the background, an effort not to overpower the conversations that were bound to happen tonight.
The mayor signaled for them to stop as he stepped up to the microphone onstage, "I would like to welcome everyone to the Holiday Gala." He paused, allowing for applause, and then continued. "This is your night, a night for the people of our city to come together, from all walks of life. As much as it is important to acknowledge the bad that has happened this year, it is equally important to celebrate the triumphs."
"New Yorkers, we survived attacks by The Void, blackouts that left us powerless, zombies that descended upon our city, the seeds of divisiveness the Friends of Humanity tried to sow between us, and natural disasters that saw our great city flooded. This year, we emerge triumphant over everything that came our way."
"In light of all we have faced, I encourage all of you to take this night, dance, sing, and perhaps, most importantly, donate to the organizations that have been working to help when the odds are stacked against everyday people. We have representatives from FEAST, Green Cross, Médecins Sans Frontières and the Fisk Foundation. Not only are they here to tell you what they do, but they are also here to garner your support for their causes. Anything you can donate is appreciated, and it will be doubled with contributions from the Fisk Administration. Thank you, all of you, for coming here tonight. There is food and refreshments, feel free to help yourself." Fisk stepped away from the microphone, the orchestra picked up in volume, continuing with their rendition of the song they had paused.
The ballroom was lively, chatter filled the room as those in attendance got into the swing of things.
Tags, but be aware, this is an open RP, hop in at your leisure:
"Father," a gentle voice cooed from the sidelines. Katherine walks forward, her husband ever present and faithful at her side. She extends her arms to greet her father with a hug. Since returning home, she had become more physically affectionate. Her therapist said it was a way for her to cope.
"The party is beautiful. I couldn't have done it better than myself," she praises, looking around the hotel. Cedar had been left at home with a babysitter, allowing the parents to enjoy the holiday evening.
As she let go of Wilson, her hands smoothed over her blue gown. It, like Katherine, was delicate and soft in color and feel. It was modest as well, hiding most of her scars. Even though she had paid for her makeup to be done professionally, the faint scar reading HYDRA was still visible on her cheek.
@mysticmasterstephenstrange (If you would like to join <3)
Stephen followed Kaya to greet her father. “Good evening, Wilson! It will be a fabulous party tonight! Thank you for inviting us.” He greets his father-in-law happily. He has been pleased by how Kaya’s recovery and therapy have been going and her being more physically affectionate has been wonderful for their relationship. He still wants to help Kaya by using magic to fix her facial scars though, whether he uses his own or finally encourages Kaya to allow Loki to fix her facial scars. Regardless of that, his wife looks stunning in her blue gown. “You look exquisite, my love.” He tells her warmly.
Wilson returned the hug from his daughter, engulfing her in his signature bear hug. "I am glad you think so." He released her, and took in her outfit, though his words wouldn't do her beauty justice, he tried to compliment her. "You look gorgeous, Katherine." He finished, imparting wise words upon her. "Try to have fun tonight, you of all people deserve that and so much more."
He then turned to his son in law. "Of course, you're welcome anywhere I go. You're family."
"I will certainly try. Where is mother?" Kaya peers around her father to try and spot her other parent. She wanted to ensure she said hello to her as well, despite how often they saw each other. Of course, Kaya had reasons to like living at her parents' house temporarily. She was very family-oriented, and spending time with those she loved made her feel safe and lighter.
As if on queue Mary made her arrival, breaking away from a previous conversation and arriving by the side of her husband, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Sorry for the delay, had a small situation to take care of."
Her smile as radiant as always made it's appearance while she was taking in her daughter's appearance. "I see you're living up to your nickname today, princess."
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Anya is LIVE right now
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The Plaza Hotel was aglow, warm lights from within the building cascaded down the stairs, welcoming the guests the city's mayor had invited. It was a rare occasion, The Plaza Hotel of all places opening their doors to everyone. One phone call was all it took.
Tonight the Hotel would be responsible for more than just housing the elite that dwelled within it's walls, they would be providing the backdrop for the charity work that the Fisk Administration had promised. Various organizations would depend on the funding raised from FEAST and Green Cross to Médecins Sans Frontières and the Fisk Foundation, as well as all those in between. Money earned would be split evenly tonight.
Guests were met by an usher who guided them to the Grand Ballroom. A dazzling chandelier sent sparkling light cascading through the room, dresses and suits alike, would glitter and glow tonight. Tables had been set up for those who wished to partake in wining and dining, menus were placed amongst the centerpieces, a secondary option for those dissatisfied with the options provided. Waiters traveled with plates of hor d'œuvres, small bite sized snacks for the guests, such as deviled eggs, smoked salmon, mini crab cakes, caprese skewers, beef as well as tofu sliders, and skewers containing green grapes and strawberries shaped into roses.
There was an additional table set up nearby which had refreshments: Bottled water, raspberry coconut margaritas, old fashioned, mint juleps, whiskey sours, la grande dame, and pêche mignon. In addition to the drinks, a trio of four tiered stands from the bottom up held tea sandwiches, scones, a variety of cheeses, and macaroons, staff members stood nearby ready to assist if help was required and replenish the supplies.
An orchestra was set up on the stage, orchestral arrangements of Holiday songs playing in the background, an effort not to overpower the conversations that were bound to happen tonight.
The mayor signaled for them to stop as he stepped up to the microphone onstage, "I would like to welcome everyone to the Holiday Gala." He paused, allowing for applause, and then continued. "This is your night, a night for the people of our city to come together, from all walks of life. As much as it is important to acknowledge the bad that has happened this year, it is equally important to celebrate the triumphs."
"New Yorkers, we survived attacks by The Void, blackouts that left us powerless, zombies that descended upon our city, the seeds of divisiveness the Friends of Humanity tried to sow between us, and natural disasters that saw our great city flooded. This year, we emerge triumphant over everything that came our way."
"In light of all we have faced, I encourage all of you to take this night, dance, sing, and perhaps, most importantly, donate to the organizations that have been working to help when the odds are stacked against everyday people. We have representatives from FEAST, Green Cross, Médecins Sans Frontières and the Fisk Foundation. Not only are they here to tell you what they do, but they are also here to garner your support for their causes. Anything you can donate is appreciated, and it will be doubled with contributions from the Fisk Administration. Thank you, all of you, for coming here tonight. There is food and refreshments, feel free to help yourself." Fisk stepped away from the microphone, the orchestra picked up in volume, continuing with their rendition of the song they had paused.
The ballroom was lively, chatter filled the room as those in attendance got into the swing of things.
Tags, but be aware, this is an open RP, hop in at your leisure:
Karen Page arrived solo, wearing a strapless black gala dress with miniature sequins that caught the warm lights from the chandeliers, her loose hair in gentle curls.
She wasn't here for work, technically, but it had been too long since she'd checked in with many of the contacts she had made via stories for the Bulletin, and it was past time she made a public appearance to remind everyone she was still around and doing just fine. The Winter Gala was perfect for that.
She mingled among the crowd without spending overlong speaking to any one person, sipping from a glass of white wine and answering questions about what she had been up to with vague responses.
The noise level in the room was off-putting in a way that had never bothered her before. Crowds were usually no big deal, especially social gatherings. She resolutely pushed the feeling away and tried to focus on just enjoying the night.
Mary had been chatting with a few people in the crowd when she bumped into Karen. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you." She spoke gently, just before her eyes flickered with recognition.
"You're the girl from the news, right? Karen Page?" She asked, she had known her name from the newspaper, but most recently from the kidnapping case that had been plastered across the screens playing the Daily Bugle.
It felt impolite to bring that up, so she decided to introduce herself instead. "I'm Mary Fisk." She smiled, holding a hand out to the woman. As she moved the light caught onto the sparkly fringes of her dress, causing twinkles to flow off of her.
Karen was definitely more used to bringing the news rather than being on it. She wondered briefly if Mary was used to it, being married to the mayor.
"Mrs. Fisk," she said to her, smiling and taking her hand gently. She was glad to finally meet her. "Just Karen is fine. That dress is so lovely."
Karen glanced around the hotel to encompass the festive atmosphere. "Everything looks wonderful tonight. Did you have a hand in selecting the location and decor?"
"Please, call me Mary." She replied, Karen's smile was returned in kind. "Thank you, that's very kind of you to say." Mary gave the blonde a gentle handshake, she was hot to the touch.
"I did the decor and picked the drinks, Wilson picked the location. Flashy and expensive is definitely more his thing than it is mine." She glanced around, then lowered her voice, just before she released Karen. "If things had gone my way I would be at home drawing in a sketchbook."
Karen was surprised to hear the confession, if only because she would have assumed a mayor's wife would greatly enjoy this type of social celebration.
Not that Fisk would ever be satisfied with a wife that was only interested in spending her time mingling with New York's other elite, Karen was sure of that. Mary Fisk had to have something more. Some sort of fire to her.
"I understand what you mean," Karen replied, trading one confession for another. "This is all a little... much, sometimes, isn't it?"
Between the animated conversations of the attendees around them, those swaying together to the music closer to the stage, and the orchestra playing on the far side of the room, the decibel level was noticeable. Karen wasn't sure why it was bothering her. She kept glancing over her shoulder, making sure no one was using the party as cover to sneak up behind her. But of course that was silly.
Karen tried to remember what Mary had just said, to distract herself. Oh, right, the sketchbook. "You're an artist?" she asked, encouraging her to elaborate.
"Yeah, it really is." She agreed, though Karen's honesty put her at ease it was starkly contrasted by her glancing around the room. She had to wonder if the woman was expecting someone to show up.
"Yes, I am. I take pictures of places around the city and draw them. Sometimes I make portraits of myself and family members. It usually depends on the day. I picked it up as a child and never stopped."
"That's amazing," Karen replied. She had never had any artistic talent, even in school. "Please let me know if you do any galleries in the future, I'd love to attend."
Karen's searching eyes spotted a dark-haired young woman keeping to the shadows of the room. The hair on the back of her neck pricked. "She seems odd," Karen murmured, almost not realizing she was speaking out loud. Catching people who stood out was part of her job. "I wonder who that is."
Hecate had been watching the conversation carefully, keeping tabs on her mother. When Karen looked towards her, she locked eyes with the older woman, tilting her head.
After a minute of looking, she decided to stride towards the two with the confidence of a Cheshire cat. "Hecate, pleasure to meet you." She smiled, standing, rather towering, beside Mary
Mary's whole face lit up when the girl came over, a smile that rivaled the lights in the room. The soft gasp that escaped her in her delight was involuntary, but joyous all the same. Hecate was actually coming to socialize, a milestone of epic proportions had been unlocked.
"Karen, I'd like you to meet Hecate, she's my daughter."
The Plaza Hotel was aglow, warm lights from within the building cascaded down the stairs, welcoming the guests the city's mayor had invited. It was a rare occasion, The Plaza Hotel of all places opening their doors to everyone. One phone call was all it took.
Tonight the Hotel would be responsible for more than just housing the elite that dwelled within it's walls, they would be providing the backdrop for the charity work that the Fisk Administration had promised. Various organizations would depend on the funding raised from FEAST and Green Cross to Médecins Sans Frontières and the Fisk Foundation, as well as all those in between. Money earned would be split evenly tonight.
Guests were met by an usher who guided them to the Grand Ballroom. A dazzling chandelier sent sparkling light cascading through the room, dresses and suits alike, would glitter and glow tonight. Tables had been set up for those who wished to partake in wining and dining, menus were placed amongst the centerpieces, a secondary option for those dissatisfied with the options provided. Waiters traveled with plates of hor d'œuvres, small bite sized snacks for the guests, such as deviled eggs, smoked salmon, mini crab cakes, caprese skewers, beef as well as tofu sliders, and skewers containing green grapes and strawberries shaped into roses.
There was an additional table set up nearby which had refreshments: Bottled water, raspberry coconut margaritas, old fashioned, mint juleps, whiskey sours, la grande dame, and pêche mignon. In addition to the drinks, a trio of four tiered stands from the bottom up held tea sandwiches, scones, a variety of cheeses, and macaroons, staff members stood nearby ready to assist if help was required and replenish the supplies.
An orchestra was set up on the stage, orchestral arrangements of Holiday songs playing in the background, an effort not to overpower the conversations that were bound to happen tonight.
The mayor signaled for them to stop as he stepped up to the microphone onstage, "I would like to welcome everyone to the Holiday Gala." He paused, allowing for applause, and then continued. "This is your night, a night for the people of our city to come together, from all walks of life. As much as it is important to acknowledge the bad that has happened this year, it is equally important to celebrate the triumphs."
"New Yorkers, we survived attacks by The Void, blackouts that left us powerless, zombies that descended upon our city, the seeds of divisiveness the Friends of Humanity tried to sow between us, and natural disasters that saw our great city flooded. This year, we emerge triumphant over everything that came our way."
"In light of all we have faced, I encourage all of you to take this night, dance, sing, and perhaps, most importantly, donate to the organizations that have been working to help when the odds are stacked against everyday people. We have representatives from FEAST, Green Cross, Médecins Sans Frontières and the Fisk Foundation. Not only are they here to tell you what they do, but they are also here to garner your support for their causes. Anything you can donate is appreciated, and it will be doubled with contributions from the Fisk Administration. Thank you, all of you, for coming here tonight. There is food and refreshments, feel free to help yourself." Fisk stepped away from the microphone, the orchestra picked up in volume, continuing with their rendition of the song they had paused.
The ballroom was lively, chatter filled the room as those in attendance got into the swing of things.
Tags, but be aware, this is an open RP, hop in at your leisure:
Karen Page arrived solo, wearing a strapless black gala dress with miniature sequins that caught the warm lights from the chandeliers, her loose hair in gentle curls.
She wasn't here for work, technically, but it had been too long since she'd checked in with many of the contacts she had made via stories for the Bulletin, and it was past time she made a public appearance to remind everyone she was still around and doing just fine. The Winter Gala was perfect for that.
She mingled among the crowd without spending overlong speaking to any one person, sipping from a glass of white wine and answering questions about what she had been up to with vague responses.
The noise level in the room was off-putting in a way that had never bothered her before. Crowds were usually no big deal, especially social gatherings. She resolutely pushed the feeling away and tried to focus on just enjoying the night.
Mary had been chatting with a few people in the crowd when she bumped into Karen. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you." She spoke gently, just before her eyes flickered with recognition.
"You're the girl from the news, right? Karen Page?" She asked, she had known her name from the newspaper, but most recently from the kidnapping case that had been plastered across the screens playing the Daily Bugle.
It felt impolite to bring that up, so she decided to introduce herself instead. "I'm Mary Fisk." She smiled, holding a hand out to the woman. As she moved the light caught onto the sparkly fringes of her dress, causing twinkles to flow off of her.
Karen was definitely more used to bringing the news rather than being on it. She wondered briefly if Mary was used to it, being married to the mayor.
"Mrs. Fisk," she said to her, smiling and taking her hand gently. She was glad to finally meet her. "Just Karen is fine. That dress is so lovely."
Karen glanced around the hotel to encompass the festive atmosphere. "Everything looks wonderful tonight. Did you have a hand in selecting the location and decor?"
"Please, call me Mary." She replied, Karen's smile was returned in kind. "Thank you, that's very kind of you to say." Mary gave the blonde a gentle handshake, she was hot to the touch.
"I did the decor and picked the drinks, Wilson picked the location. Flashy and expensive is definitely more his thing than it is mine." She glanced around, then lowered her voice, just before she released Karen. "If things had gone my way I would be at home drawing in a sketchbook."
Karen was surprised to hear the confession, if only because she would have assumed a mayor's wife would greatly enjoy this type of social celebration.
Not that Fisk would ever be satisfied with a wife that was only interested in spending her time mingling with New York's other elite, Karen was sure of that. Mary Fisk had to have something more. Some sort of fire to her.
"I understand what you mean," Karen replied, trading one confession for another. "This is all a little... much, sometimes, isn't it?"
Between the animated conversations of the attendees around them, those swaying together to the music closer to the stage, and the orchestra playing on the far side of the room, the decibel level was noticeable. Karen wasn't sure why it was bothering her. She kept glancing over her shoulder, making sure no one was using the party as cover to sneak up behind her. But of course that was silly.
Karen tried to remember what Mary had just said, to distract herself. Oh, right, the sketchbook. "You're an artist?" she asked, encouraging her to elaborate.
"Yeah, it really is." She agreed, though Karen's honesty put her at ease it was starkly contrasted by her glancing around the room. She had to wonder if the woman was expecting someone to show up.
"Yes, I am. I take pictures of places around the city and draw them. Sometimes I make portraits of myself and family members. It usually depends on the day. I picked it up as a child and never stopped."
The Plaza Hotel was aglow, warm lights from within the building cascaded down the stairs, welcoming the guests the city's mayor had invited. It was a rare occasion, The Plaza Hotel of all places opening their doors to everyone. One phone call was all it took.
Tonight the Hotel would be responsible for more than just housing the elite that dwelled within it's walls, they would be providing the backdrop for the charity work that the Fisk Administration had promised. Various organizations would depend on the funding raised from FEAST and Green Cross to Médecins Sans Frontières and the Fisk Foundation, as well as all those in between. Money earned would be split evenly tonight.
Guests were met by an usher who guided them to the Grand Ballroom. A dazzling chandelier sent sparkling light cascading through the room, dresses and suits alike, would glitter and glow tonight. Tables had been set up for those who wished to partake in wining and dining, menus were placed amongst the centerpieces, a secondary option for those dissatisfied with the options provided. Waiters traveled with plates of hor d'œuvres, small bite sized snacks for the guests, such as deviled eggs, smoked salmon, mini crab cakes, caprese skewers, beef as well as tofu sliders, and skewers containing green grapes and strawberries shaped into roses.
There was an additional table set up nearby which had refreshments: Bottled water, raspberry coconut margaritas, old fashioned, mint juleps, whiskey sours, la grande dame, and pêche mignon. In addition to the drinks, a trio of four tiered stands from the bottom up held tea sandwiches, scones, a variety of cheeses, and macaroons, staff members stood nearby ready to assist if help was required and replenish the supplies.
An orchestra was set up on the stage, orchestral arrangements of Holiday songs playing in the background, an effort not to overpower the conversations that were bound to happen tonight.
The mayor signaled for them to stop as he stepped up to the microphone onstage, "I would like to welcome everyone to the Holiday Gala." He paused, allowing for applause, and then continued. "This is your night, a night for the people of our city to come together, from all walks of life. As much as it is important to acknowledge the bad that has happened this year, it is equally important to celebrate the triumphs."
"New Yorkers, we survived attacks by The Void, blackouts that left us powerless, zombies that descended upon our city, the seeds of divisiveness the Friends of Humanity tried to sow between us, and natural disasters that saw our great city flooded. This year, we emerge triumphant over everything that came our way."
"In light of all we have faced, I encourage all of you to take this night, dance, sing, and perhaps, most importantly, donate to the organizations that have been working to help when the odds are stacked against everyday people. We have representatives from FEAST, Green Cross, Médecins Sans Frontières and the Fisk Foundation. Not only are they here to tell you what they do, but they are also here to garner your support for their causes. Anything you can donate is appreciated, and it will be doubled with contributions from the Fisk Administration. Thank you, all of you, for coming here tonight. There is food and refreshments, feel free to help yourself." Fisk stepped away from the microphone, the orchestra picked up in volume, continuing with their rendition of the song they had paused.
The ballroom was lively, chatter filled the room as those in attendance got into the swing of things.
Tags, but be aware, this is an open RP, hop in at your leisure:
Karen Page arrived solo, wearing a strapless black gala dress with miniature sequins that caught the warm lights from the chandeliers, her loose hair in gentle curls.
She wasn't here for work, technically, but it had been too long since she'd checked in with many of the contacts she had made via stories for the Bulletin, and it was past time she made a public appearance to remind everyone she was still around and doing just fine. The Winter Gala was perfect for that.
She mingled among the crowd without spending overlong speaking to any one person, sipping from a glass of white wine and answering questions about what she had been up to with vague responses.
The noise level in the room was off-putting in a way that had never bothered her before. Crowds were usually no big deal, especially social gatherings. She resolutely pushed the feeling away and tried to focus on just enjoying the night.
Mary had been chatting with a few people in the crowd when she bumped into Karen. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you." She spoke gently, just before her eyes flickered with recognition.
"You're the girl from the news, right? Karen Page?" She asked, she had known her name from the newspaper, but most recently from the kidnapping case that had been plastered across the screens playing the Daily Bugle.
It felt impolite to bring that up, so she decided to introduce herself instead. "I'm Mary Fisk." She smiled, holding a hand out to the woman. As she moved the light caught onto the sparkly fringes of her dress, causing twinkles to flow off of her.
Karen was definitely more used to bringing the news rather than being on it. She wondered briefly if Mary was used to it, being married to the mayor.
"Mrs. Fisk," she said to her, smiling and taking her hand gently. She was glad to finally meet her. "Just Karen is fine. That dress is so lovely."
Karen glanced around the hotel to encompass the festive atmosphere. "Everything looks wonderful tonight. Did you have a hand in selecting the location and decor?"
"Please, call me Mary." She replied, Karen's smile was returned in kind. "Thank you, that's very kind of you to say." Mary gave the blonde a gentle handshake, she was hot to the touch.
"I did the decor and picked the drinks, Wilson picked the location. Flashy and expensive is definitely more his thing than it is mine." She glanced around, then lowered her voice, just before she released Karen. "If things had gone my way I would be at home drawing in a sketchbook."
The Plaza Hotel was aglow, warm lights from within the building cascaded down the stairs, welcoming the guests the city's mayor had invited. It was a rare occasion, The Plaza Hotel of all places opening their doors to everyone. One phone call was all it took.
Tonight the Hotel would be responsible for more than just housing the elite that dwelled within it's walls, they would be providing the backdrop for the charity work that the Fisk Administration had promised. Various organizations would depend on the funding raised from FEAST and Green Cross to Médecins Sans Frontières and the Fisk Foundation, as well as all those in between. Money earned would be split evenly tonight.
Guests were met by an usher who guided them to the Grand Ballroom. A dazzling chandelier sent sparkling light cascading through the room, dresses and suits alike, would glitter and glow tonight. Tables had been set up for those who wished to partake in wining and dining, menus were placed amongst the centerpieces, a secondary option for those dissatisfied with the options provided. Waiters traveled with plates of hor d'œuvres, small bite sized snacks for the guests, such as deviled eggs, smoked salmon, mini crab cakes, caprese skewers, beef as well as tofu sliders, and skewers containing green grapes and strawberries shaped into roses.
There was an additional table set up nearby which had refreshments: Bottled water, raspberry coconut margaritas, old fashioned, mint juleps, whiskey sours, la grande dame, and pêche mignon. In addition to the drinks, a trio of four tiered stands from the bottom up held tea sandwiches, scones, a variety of cheeses, and macaroons, staff members stood nearby ready to assist if help was required and replenish the supplies.
An orchestra was set up on the stage, orchestral arrangements of Holiday songs playing in the background, an effort not to overpower the conversations that were bound to happen tonight.
The mayor signaled for them to stop as he stepped up to the microphone onstage, "I would like to welcome everyone to the Holiday Gala." He paused, allowing for applause, and then continued. "This is your night, a night for the people of our city to come together, from all walks of life. As much as it is important to acknowledge the bad that has happened this year, it is equally important to celebrate the triumphs."
"New Yorkers, we survived attacks by The Void, blackouts that left us powerless, zombies that descended upon our city, the seeds of divisiveness the Friends of Humanity tried to sow between us, and natural disasters that saw our great city flooded. This year, we emerge triumphant over everything that came our way."
"In light of all we have faced, I encourage all of you to take this night, dance, sing, and perhaps, most importantly, donate to the organizations that have been working to help when the odds are stacked against everyday people. We have representatives from FEAST, Green Cross, Médecins Sans Frontières and the Fisk Foundation. Not only are they here to tell you what they do, but they are also here to garner your support for their causes. Anything you can donate is appreciated, and it will be doubled with contributions from the Fisk Administration. Thank you, all of you, for coming here tonight. There is food and refreshments, feel free to help yourself." Fisk stepped away from the microphone, the orchestra picked up in volume, continuing with their rendition of the song they had paused.
The ballroom was lively, chatter filled the room as those in attendance got into the swing of things.
Tags, but be aware, this is an open RP, hop in at your leisure:
Karen Page arrived solo, wearing a strapless black gala dress with miniature sequins that caught the warm lights from the chandeliers, her loose hair in gentle curls.
She wasn't here for work, technically, but it had been too long since she'd checked in with many of the contacts she had made via stories for the Bulletin, and it was past time she made a public appearance to remind everyone she was still around and doing just fine. The Winter Gala was perfect for that.
She mingled among the crowd without spending overlong speaking to any one person, sipping from a glass of white wine and answering questions about what she had been up to with vague responses.
The noise level in the room was off-putting in a way that had never bothered her before. Crowds were usually no big deal, especially social gatherings. She resolutely pushed the feeling away and tried to focus on just enjoying the night.
Mary had been chatting with a few people in the crowd when she bumped into Karen. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you." She spoke gently, just before her eyes flickered with recognition.
"You're the girl from the news, right? Karen Page?" She asked, she had known her name from the newspaper, but most recently from the kidnapping case that had been plastered across the screens playing the Daily Bugle.
It felt impolite to bring that up, so she decided to introduce herself instead. "I'm Mary Fisk." She smiled, holding a hand out to the woman. As she moved the light caught onto the sparkly fringes of her dress, causing twinkles to flow off of her.
It traced the sigil burned into the ground like clockwork, everything in it's place and every action done and completed with an enviable perfection. Supplies were set up just as the scrolls had instructed, making for an easy process.
Start in Manhattan.
Bone meal, ash, blood, energy concentration, activated.
Teleport to the Bronx.
Bone meal, ash, blood, energy concentration, activated.
Teleport to China Town.
Bone meal, ash, blood, energy concentration, activated.
Teleport to Korea Town.
Bone meal, ash, blood, energy concentration, activated.
Teleport to Westchester.
Bone meal, ash, blood, energy concentration, activated.
It was tedious, but necessary all the same. Siphoning power from the Earth was an unforgiving process, the Earthquakes that would follow through the night were a problem, reinforcing the buildings would only do so much. One night was all they needed, one perfect night. By dawn, the energy siphoned would allow Krahllak to achieve apotheosis and reshape the entire planet to it's will.
It would be able to wipe out any trace of the accursed God and all of His followers. The Hand would be ontop.
Hands full of supplies, Krahllak teleported to it's second to last stop, Hell's Kitchen. It traced a sigil ontop of the building, a back-up just in case Westchester fell, one only It know about. It drew the sigil, poured the mixture of bone meal, ash, and blood.
Red magic flickered around it's fingers, energy flowed directly into the sigil, it glowed when it was activated. One glamour later and the sigil was concealed, blending in with the rooftop.
"Curse this Earth and all who inhabit it." It muttered, just before teleporting back to base.
A forced smile with far too many teeth stretched across it's face as it talked aloud and telepathically to The Hand members far and wide. "Tonight is the night our actions come to fruition, what we have worked for across centuries, life and afterlife blended into one to construct a better world. Rejoice! It is your last night on this wretched planet. I have one final task to ask each of you: Guard you assigned bases. If there are any disturbances during this process kill whatever or whoever is causing it. Come morning light, we will herald in a new age!"
With it's short speech concluded, everyone was dismissed to their assigned bases. A convergence of sorts would take place at the base in Hell's Kitchen where Stick, Gao, Mary, and Elektra were assigned.
Typhoid showed up at the base a while after Krahllak did, she had a stack of papers to store safely. Her heels echoed across the cement as she walked the length of the hall to the ritual room.
"Round and round we go, where we stop, nobody knows." She sang softly to herself, curls bouncing with each step.
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"Glad you asked, darling! Seeing that the Hand won't have need of them anymore, I want all of the property rights to, well, everything in the city."
She placed a stack of papers in front of the demon. "These are land transfers, we have to make sure if this goes south, not that I think it will, our organization needs to live to see another day."
The documents were printed, legally binding, everything checked out to a T.
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · Property Acquisition Forms · The RP-5217NYC Real Property Transfer Report is a form (RPL Article 9, Section 333) used to do
Tricks treaters! *the little boy dressed like The Red Guardian bangs on the door and holds up a hollowed out pumpkin that was bigger than his head*
@weekeewee
"Hi sweetheart!" Typhoid greeted, pulling the door open, eyes twinkling with mischief as she looked to the boy. She had been entrusted with the bucket of candy sometime after Wilson scared some kids away, much to her amusement.
With her arrival she gave handfuls of black licorice for the poor trick or treaters. She tossed a few into his bucket. Crouching down, she gazed at the boy, "What are you supposed to be?"
"Well, go fourth and win all your cases." Typhoid replied, she rocked back on her heels and stood to her full height in short bursts. "Alright, you can go away now!"
