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There is a small chalk slate fixed to the board. The sign currently reads in a feminine scrawl:

Status: On Call

Leave a message at Myra's apartmentCollapse )
Nexus and those with Myra's PINpoint numberCollapse )

((OOC: Anyone from any community wishing to contact myself or my character may do so through this thread. Also, as a general policy, every post in this journal is open to IC and OOC character conversation, just please be sure to delineate which you are speaking in. Thanks!))

[OOC: 100 promps - master]

It's about time I picked this up. If for any reason, then for the fact that it will cause me to write more for Myra. She's fun, but my ideas for what to write concerning her can be so limited sometimes, that I'm already beginning to feel that I'm repeating myself. If you catch such behavior in my prompts (or role play), let me know. I'll try to write more about facets of her that I have not touched upon, if I can.

Prompts table behind cutCollapse )

Panicked and LOLed

Myra made doubly and triply certain that every window in her apartment had been locked, shades drawn, and that the door was bolted shut. Having arrived back in her apartment in the Old Tiger's world from the Nexus, she was nearly in tears as she'd run to the nearest mirror and taken stock of her foolishness.

LOLed twice in under a month, and her first two at that. It was one thing to accept a kiss (or give one, but she was trying not to focus on that either) for freedom from being stuck to the floor, but it was another entirely to find yourself reversed in age nearly ten years. She was in the middle of a mission, had no idea how long the effects would last, and was supposed to continue working with the dealers she'd managed to infiltrate, in a few hours.

She could call in, tell the one she was 'dating' that she was sick, but even her voice had changed. The laboriously schooled, perfect New York accent had also regressed to the time before she'd become an agent, her American words tainted with a Shanghai lilt. True, she had been well-spoken, and her parents had given her the ability to speak with as little an accent as possible, but having heard little English apart from what they spoke, she had started out with the handicap, and it had take some intense submersion in the Bureau to clear up her language.

All she could think about though, was the horror of either, or both, of her superiors finding out what she'd done. Their PINpoint coordinates for her room took them into her living room. She was currently brewing tea, as she sat in the bedroom with the door cracked only far enough to keep an eye on the apartment and listen for the whistling of the pot, praying the Old Tiger didn't decide to give her some last minute instructions. She wouldn't dare set foot outside the apartment until this wore off.

Khan on the horizon

She had to tell The Shadow. In her mind, Myra could see the leering face of Shiwan Khan clear as day, and he was trying to tell her, Ming Dwan, to come to him. She could feel her feet slip from beneath the covers and hit the cool floor. Like an automaton, she lurched forward, moving toward her bedroom door. It took every ounce of strength as she fought to keep her feet pinned to the floor. She had to go to The Shadow, not Khan.Read more...Collapse )


Just some quick information for everyone who has my NYC address/PIN:

The Chief is having me relocate for the time being, so once I get the PIN for that location, anyone who needs the number will be contacted with the new coordinates. If anyone accidentally uses the NYC location, you'll just pop into my apartment there, but I won't be able to do much for you. There won't be the worry about appearing in someone elses' apartment though, as it will remain under my name.