played by
Neko
POSTS
3
awards
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Inactive
call me Mimikyu, Kyu, Dr. M
She/Her
26 YEARS OLD
April
2
Aries
Seattle
Heterosexual
Coroner / ER Doctor
TAG WITH @mimi
Mimi Hirutani
no one wants to see the way society keeps spreading the disease.
It was a tiring month for her. Around this time, people tried to walk into her life like flowers and she politely passed by. Conferences invited her like they did her father – but she didn’t want anything to do with that. The dead had more personality and more welcoming voices than the living could ever do. She was sure that her seasonal allergies – the coughing and the congestion she was managing – had part to do with her absolutely foul thoughts. Pollen count was relatively high for this month, though she was sure the rains would eventually drive it out. She did loathe seeing the dead and smelling them after a while – but after dealing with a rash of inconsolable people at the ER, she couldn’t find enough empathy to go back for a while.
She had taken up refuge where the living roamed, or the police break room. She had come to drop off some of the medical files just to get out of the basement, but the cop she was looking for wasn’t there. Mimi couldn’t blame them – but she found herself looking at the report over and over again. Heavy weight in her lungs, she had dosed herself up on guaifenesin and god knows what else, but it was barely keeping the cough away. The coroner wasn’t finding relief the way she wanted it – and she really hoped she didn’t need to use sick time.
Blue eyes flicked over the crisp white pages with splotched black ink. The form was so old – she should really request better ones. Stabbed – they said mugged, but she didn’t believe so. The extremely deep cuts were not someone an average person would do – and the knife was much too long. Almost like a diving knife or a hunting blade. It was Seattle, there weren’t too many of those. She was a coroner though, she highly doubted the detectives would listen to her.
Giving a raspy sigh, she turned to get her purse, accidently knocking off the folder onto the floor. Mimi inwardly cursed, turning around to reach it, but another hand was picking it up.
-- Open to 1! I also have no idea how to plot with people and just make open threads.
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played by
Sushi
POSTS
67
awards
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Civilian
call me Laurel
She/Her
15 YEARS OLD
August
11
Leo
Seattle
Demisexual
Singer/Pickpocket
TAG WITH @loralie
LORALIE NYSTROM
no one wants to see the way society keeps spreading the disease.
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Leave me to my
ABSURDITY
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Loralie sat on the chair, kicking her legs. It was a habit that she never kicked from long ago. Her plans for the day had not included the police station, yet here she was. They brought her in this morning for shoplifting, but it wasn’t her. The shop owner was simply assuming, since she did have somewhat of a name for pickpocketing. And she had been in the store around the area where the shoplifting happened. Curse her luck. This time though, it really wasn’t her. Loralie had no qualms telling the officers so, but they weren’t too pleased by that. So, she was stuck sitting outside as the adults reviewed security footage. What a waste of time. Back, and forth, and back, and forth. Her legs kept moving.[break][break]
Soon after, the cop came out. The shop owner apologized, with contempt still in his eyes. Loralie shrugged, what’s done is done. With a nod from the officer, she left, skipping down the hallway. She hummed as she moved along, not paying attention to the people around her. Or, at least she tried to. Halfway out the building, she heard papers falling to the floor, followed by a mild curse. Oh? Loralie looked around; it seemed she had somehow made it to the police break room. Not that she was supposed to be here. Nevermind that. She quickly spotted the cause of the noise and curiously wandered closer. A brown haired girl, looking quite under the weather. The papers she’d knocked over were all over the floor. Loralie bent over to help pick them up, noting the grotesque images on them. As the other woman looked up, Loralie flashed a playful smile. “How-d’ye-do?”
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