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Lana Dhavernas

0 · 413 views · located in Oakhedge

a character in “The Rise of The Nightmare”, as played by woundman

Description

Lana Tyler Dhavernas


27 || Pansexual || Forensic Investigator || October 13th || Evanston, Illinois


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They keep on burying our dead
They keep on planting their bones in the ground
But they won't grow
The sun doesn't help
And all we've got is a giant crop of names
And dates
- Lacrimosa



Likes:

Tea || Earbuds || Cold showers
Hot baths || Hiking || Photography
The park || Pineapple juice
Swimming || Co-workers || Diner food


Dislikes:

Cigarettes || Alcohol || Oversleeping
Chinese food || Home Improvement shows
Guns || Coffee || The smell of smoke
Showing weakness || Unsolved cases || Chaos


Fears:

Purposelessness || The Nightmare
Unsolved cases || Mistakes
Getting too attached || Emotional closeness


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The trees have grown from seeds
They're planted in my feet
They crack my bones
My spine becomes a branch
To bend, not break
- What the Water Gave Me



Skills:

Highly observant || Attentive to detail || Persistant
Patient || Works well with victims (condolences) || Caretaker
Top physical condition || Talented photographer || Strong stomach


Deficits:

Poor marksmanship || Major social avoidance || Emotionally distant
Trouble with mathematics || Tends to obsess || Subpar hearing
Forgetful in areas not related to work || Neglects to eat regularly


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Sister say a prayer for us, one we learned from nuns and such
I won't believe not a word you speak, just make it sweet to hear
Let's pour wine in coffee cups and drive around the neighborhood
And shine the headlights on houses until all the news is good
- The Neighbors



Personality:

Lana is an unending well of kindness, patience, and attentive energy, making her an incredible listener. She's quiet, but easy to be around, and she has a way of making you feel... noticed. Seen. In contradiction to that, she herself prefers to remain a blank page. The moment that she walks into her office, what kicks in could be described as a "fear of spilling". Lana herself becomes a glass, filled to the brim, forcing herself to remain as straight and consistent as possible in order to maintain her liquids. And, really, that's what it is she's become to excellent at doing -- maintaining. She is an expert at navigating social situations, harmlessly twisting any conversation that is unrelated to work away from herself. She didn't even let her co-workers know when her father finally passed, taking a couple of sick days before heading back to work, business as usual (once or twice, since then, she's used "family business" as an excuse in response to social invitations; a fact that makes her sick to think about, as she no longer has any family to speak of). She uses repertoire as faux rapport, utilizing the comfort of small talk to avoid the commitment that closeness can bring.

Outside of work, Lana keeps herself isolated, for the most part staying inside of her house. When she does go out, it's with a specific goal in mind, be that a grocery run, swimming at the local pool, or research at the library. The only time that she releases herself, gets out into the world, is when she visits Oakhedge's wilderness areas and the nearby park. She goes out there sometimes, on her afternoons off or in the dark of night, sitting for hours and photographing whatever catches her eye. Recently, she's had to cut back on time spent in the park, on account of the case, and she hasn't allowed herself out passed sunset in weeks. Though she actively distances herself from her teammates, she's become more attached to them than even she knows, and The Nightmare's activities are beginning to hit home in a frightening way. It's their job to look for criminals, but this particular killer is looking right back at them. With each murder, the dynamic of the team shifts, and it's getting harder to swallow her emotions. The affect that the case is having on her scares Lana to an extent that she isn't prepared to handle, so she's taken to avoiding it entirely, offering to do extra paper work in an attempt to stay far away from the bloody reality of the attacks.


History:

Born and raised in Evanston, IL (several miles outside of Chicago), Lana led a fairly normal, happy childhood. She'd never known her mother, a young woman with a nervous disposition who'd left her boyfriend with a baby and refused to look back, but Lana was very close to her father, who was a pleasant man and a city cop. She mostly kept to herself, and didn't know many people outside of school, but she did make and keep several friends through her classes. She enjoyed several dates throughout middle and highschool, as well -- the first, with a freshman whose ears Lana adored; the second, with a student in her Chemistry class who was a bit more handsy than he really should've been; and the third, a several months-long affair, with a young woman whose eyes reminded Lana of loose change, but who insisted that she was "destined for greater things". Quite a bit of her time was spent at Evanston's Mary and Leigh Block Museum of Art and, when she was old enough to, she took up a volunteer position at the museum, stocking shelves and directing museum-goers and whatever this-and-that management would have her do. Meanwhile, she took up an interest in forensics, which her father (who strived to keep his daughter safe, almost more than was necessary, but who longed for nothing more than her success) supported intensely. Her interest turned to obsession and, graduating top of her class at her local highschool, she entered immediately into the University of Chicago, majoring in biological sciences.

Before she had a chance to fully adjust to the college experience, she was ripped out of the scene, suddenly and with no lack of violence. On the night of October 28th, soon after her 18th birthday, she received a phone call from NorthShore's Evanston Hospital, telling her that her father had been admitted in an emergency situation. It wasn't until she'd arrived at the hospital that she'd gotten the full story; while he was still living, the injuries that her father had sustained during the accident (a major car crash, a spot of unfortunate luck that was entirely unrelated to his dangerous line of work) had left him in such a state that he would be largely unable to care for himself from then on. It was recommended that Lana admit him to a care home, as he'd probably only have a few years left to live, and while she did consider it, she wasn't capable of leaving him by himself. He'd been left before, by the girl he had at the time thought to be his future wife, and it just wouldn't be right, especially with so little time left. On the more self-oriented end of things, her father was the only family that she'd ever had, and the only close connection that she'd been able to maintain thus far. And so, she took him fully into her care, and their roles were officially reversed. Lana dropped out of Chicago U, packed up her belongings, and moved the two of them to Oakhedge, her father's hometown, a quiet and familiar place to spend the his last days.

"His last days" were much more plentiful that either Lana or the doctors had expected. She picked up where she'd left off in her schooling, procuring a Bachelor's degree and completing her graduate education exclusively through online programs. She'd never exactly taken the time to make friends in her new home, but as the years went by, it seemed she drew tighter and tighter into her seclusion. She dedicated herself to taking care of her father and studying, coming out of the house only when there was no other option (she'd taken two jobs, one at a nearby nightclub and the other at a bookshop, to help pay for living expenses and medical necessities), hoping to get into work with the local police force before her father died, to make him proud just once before he was gone. Eventually, Lana did, and her work began to draw her out of the shell that she'd grown herself. However, by the time she officially started working, her father was largely unresponsive, out of touch with the world around him, and she could never be entirely sure that he'd understood what she'd accomplished. That she had a chance to be good at something other than being responsible for him, which he'd been after her for since she'd met her 23rd year single and friendless. Nearly a decade after his accident, Lana's father passed away, leaving her to wonder whether her life had any remaining purpose, and to pour herself into her newfound profession in avoidance of that very idea.


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Theme Song:

Regina Spektor || The Flowers

The flowers you gave me are rotting
And still I refuse to throw them away
Some of the bulbs never opened quite fully
They might, so I'm waiting and staying awake

Things I have loved I'm allowed to keep
I'll never know if I go to sleep

The papers around me are piling and twisting
Regina, the paper back mummy
What then?
I'm taking the knife to the books that I own
And I'm chopping and chopping
And boiling soup from stone

Things I have loved I'm allowed to keep
I'll never know if I go to sleep

Things I have loved I'm allowed to keep
I'll never know if I go to sleep

So begins...

Lana Dhavernas's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexandra Pond Character Portrait: Scout Stancliff Character Portrait: Victor Hale Character Portrait: Roxanne Sura Kunik Character Portrait: Jonathon Martel Character Portrait: Ollie Bundrick
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A figure appeared at the door of his lab. Ollie looked up, feeling a shiver run down his neck. He froze as said figure lifted a gun, aiming it directly at his head. He didn't have time to react before the bullet found it's mark.

Ollie managed to drag his eyes open, sighing with relief as he realised he was still alive. He glanced up to confirm that the door was still locked. The light was still red, and he relaxed a little, rolling over in his sleeping bag. The floor of the lab had replaced his bed for the past few weeks. Not that he cared. At least he knew that nobody could get in unless he wanted them to.

His lab was at the far end of the building and wasn't used in the day shift, due to the fact that they didn't particularly need it and that he usually had several cases worth of evidence in it, meaning that it was usually better that it was only used by him. He usually set an alarm for half an hour before everyone else came in so he was dressed and presentable before everyone came in. He went home and showered every morning, picked up some fresh clothes and ate, before going back into the lab to sleep. He slept in a t-shirt and old tracksuit bottoms.

The station seemed oddly busy, considering his alarm hadn't gone off yet. He stretched an arm out to wake his phone, then swore under his breath as it didn't come on. He had missed his alarm and probably overslept. He froze as he heard a tapping on the glass door that served as the entrance to his lab. He shoved himself into a sitting position to see Jonathon standing at the door.

"Oh crap." Jonathon had clearly seen him, so there wasn't much point in pretending any more. He climbed to his feet, grabbing his pass card from the table where he'd left it before going to sleep. He swiped it, releasing the door, and smiled a little sheepishly at Jonathon as the door slid open. "Hi."

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Victor pulled on his white t-shirt, before grabbing his jacket and pulling it on. He wasn't required to wear it, but he was planning on doing more searching at the crime scenes today, meaning it would make his job a lot easier. Sure, he'd have to take it off to put on the clean suit to prevent contaminating the evidence, but people seemed to be less suspicious if he was wearing the jacket, ID or not. They were also a lot more willing to let him in, because it marked him out as a forensic investigator as opposed to a cop.

He fixed his hair, before grabbing his kit and ID. His ID went into the pocket of his plain black jeans, and he grabbed his keys shoving them into the pocket of his jacket. His landlady was heading into her apartment as he reached the bottom floor. "Evening, Mrs. Fuentes!" He said. The old Mexican woman smiled at him. "Ah, Victor. Rushing out again, I see?" She teased him. He laughed. "It's a beautiful day to solve crimes!" He said, before closing the door behind him.

His apartment was close enough to the station so that he could walk to work. Some evenings, if he was running a little late, he'd cycle, but his kit was a little difficult to balance at times. It was starting to get cold, and the light was rapidly fading. He was fully planning on just reporting in, seeing if anyone had anything to tell him, then convincing someone to either help him set up a reconstruction or to come out with him and comb the most recent crime scene. Something was already on his mind, something he wanted to try out.

Everyone else was starting to drift in and he scanned his ID as he reached the door. "Hey Victor. If you're looking for Alexandra, she's talking stuff over with Scout." Someone called. He swore under his breath. He didn't know if Roxie would be in yet, so he decided to head to the demo room.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexandra Pond Character Portrait: Scout Stancliff Character Portrait: Victor Hale Character Portrait: Roxanne Sura Kunik Character Portrait: Jonathon Martel Character Portrait: Ollie Bundrick
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"Come now boy, I can assure you that there are better places for sleep and a cold, hard floor is not one of them. If you need a place to sleep in safety Ollie, there is many places for that. In fact, even if you need a place, regardless of if safety is a factor or not, you know you have one." Ollie allowed his eyes to slip away from the man that stood in front of him. It wasn't that he felt his apartment was unsafe- it was the fact that he knew exactly how safe he was in the lab. The glass was practically bulletproof, and the ID scanner couldn't be fooled- something he had found out on the rare occasions where he'd left his ID at home.

"But we'll finish this conversation later, when I take you out for lunch at the diner." Ollie wasn't that hungry. He'd eaten after coming out of work this morning, and he'd pretty much slept since then. But he didn't want to say that in case Jonathon thought he was blowing him off. So instead he smiled. "I'll just get changed." His jeans and checked shirt were folded in his bag, and it only took him a matter of minutes to change.

He went back out to meet his boss when Victor Hale suddenly appeared at the far end of the corridor, looking rather stressed. "Sir, there's been another murder."

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Victor pulled off his jacket and slung it over the door, looking around. Something had felt... off about the last murder. The angle of the gunshot didn't correspond to where they'd found the body. The victim had either been moved or the killer had been standing at a strange angle. Either was possible, knowing the Nightmare.

He lifted the gun and was about to call out, but then someone burst into the room. "Victor, we've got another one." He whirled around, the gun falling to his side. "Already? Who?" He demanded, putting the gun back on the table and grabbing his jacket. "Peter Hurley. Another gunshot. He didn't report into work today, but nobody missed him. It's possible the Nightmare killed him last night." He sighed. "Okay. We're on our way."

He headed straight for Scout's office, knocking briefly before going in. "Sorry to interrupt, but we've got another scene. Peter Hurley. We're wanted on the scene as soon as possible." He said, before retreating and heading to find the others. He found Jonathon and Ollie just outside Ollie's lab. "Sir, there's been another murder. We're wanted ASAP. Peter Hurley's apartment."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victor Hale Character Portrait: Jonathon Martel Character Portrait: Ollie Bundrick Character Portrait: Lana Dhavernas
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Lana Tyler Dhavernas


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Cold water was capable of much more than people seemed to give it credit for, Lana thought. It had a way of wiping the slate clean; regardless of whatever her state had been the night before, she could step beneath the cool flow of the shower, close her eyes, and rely on the slicing droplets to wash it all away. It had become a calming sort of morning ritual, and this day was no different. Hair falling in front of her eyes, she allowed it to sting her nerves to numb, stripping her consciousness apart and piecing it back together in a new, more optimistic pattern. Washed, satisfied, and freshened in more than one way, she stepped out of the small cubical and into a smile.

The smile that she inhabited did not leave her as she got dressed, nor was she deserted as she prepared herself tea and a bagel. It wavered when she took a second to check her watch, cursing under her breath at the numbers on the tiny screen (which indicated that it was later than she'd previously thought it to be), but only briefly, before she transferred the tea to an old black travel mug, tossed the bagel into her kitchen's trash bin, and jogged the few blocks that made up her route to work, pushing through the wide entry doors with no lack of enthusiasm. In fact, it did not dare to slip until the moment that she saw Victor's face, standing outside of Ollie's office with several of her other co-workers. When she did, it stuttered, as did she, allowing herself to hesitate and tighten her grip on the mug before moving towards the group. Her smile had retreated, and her voice was quieted in its absence, wary of whatever dim news was headed her way.

"So, what'd I miss, then?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Victor Hale Character Portrait: Roxanne Sura Kunik Character Portrait: Jonathon Martel Character Portrait: Ollie Bundrick Character Portrait: Lana Dhavernas
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Roxanne Kunik
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Roxie leaned back, waiting for the test results, when a stirring outside her lab caught her attentions. She stood up from her chair, noticing a couple of officers move by rather quickly with a sense of urgency. She had time to kill, waiting for the results, anyways so she figured she'd stop and see Ollie. Taking a sip from her coffee and scooping up Ollie's, she made her way out of her lab.

Tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, she came upon the group, which consisted of almost half of her team. She quickly picked up on their body language, and knew something was wrong. She quickly walked to her spot, beside Ollie. Her arm brushed Ollie's, a motion that was easily unnoticeable to the others but made her heart speed up just a little. His brown hair was slightly unruley, yet he still perfect. She smile warmly at him, and gave him his coffee. Shifting into her serious mode, her amber eyes flicked between Johnathan and Victor (who she playfully called 'Icky' or 'Vicky'). Both looked very serious. "What's happened?" She asked, a touch of worry in her voice. It couldn't have been a breakthrough in the case- they wouldn't look so grim. "Oh, dear..." She breathed, glancing at her best friend. "Another body?"
She winced, knowing she was right. The others would go to the scene and leave Ollie and her. Not that she minded, but she felt cold. How many officers was he going to go through? What if he moved to her team? She shuddered. She couldn't imagine losing any of them.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alexandra Pond Character Portrait: Scout Stancliff Character Portrait: Victor Hale Character Portrait: Roxanne Sura Kunik Character Portrait: Jonathon Martel Character Portrait: Ollie Bundrick
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7.30. The crime scene has been secured and the field officers are currently in the process of conducting a technical examination.


He took a mouthful of his coffee and sighed, waiting for the machine behind him to beep. The others had rushed off to the most recent crime scene, leaving him and Roxanne practically alone in the building. He had considered going into her lab and offering to work with her, but had found himself unable to ask her. Just the simple physical contact of her brushing his arm had made his heart race.

His machine started to chirp, and he turned around, reading the machine print out. He frowned. The results of the poison were exactly as they had been for all of the other victims- untraceable. The poison appeared to be some kind of over the counter narcotic. He'd contacted some of the drug stores, and they'd informed him that a lot of people bought this particular product. They had nothing else to go on, and it was driving him mad.

He sighed heavily again, picking up his coffee and heading for Roxie's lab, humming "You Are Not" by Young Guns to himself. He'd promised to give her the results of the poison when he got them back.

"Hey, Roxie." He leaned against the door of her lab. She wasn't as cautious as him, it appeared, as she had her door left open. "I got the results of the poison back. Same again. I have no clue what to try next." He sighed, tapping his fingers against his leg. He grinned at her, taking a mouthful of his coffee. "Still, at least we're safe here and not out in the Nightmare's territory. I'm going to run the partial fingerprint we found again, see if we have any results."

He headed back to his lab, still humming to himself.

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It was warm underneath the clean suit and mask, even though his jacket was still slung in the back seat of one of the black SUV's entrusted to the forensics unit. The room was filled with floodlights, making sure that the room was as bright as day. Victor deposited his case on the floor and looked around. The medical examiner was kneeling at the body, a job that Victor didn't exactly envy him for. Dealing with dead people was one thing. Working with them for a living was another.

He produced the camera that they used to document the scene and started taking pictures. One of the body.The blood spatter on the walls. The card on the body, which just read the usual. Never question what you don't know. He turned around and saw a smudge that looked vaguely like a fingerprint on on of the doors and headed over to it, photographing it. He dusted it and lifted the print, before pushing the door open.

Written on the walls in what looked an awful lot like blood was a message.

Lonely, lonely, we came so close before...

"Guys!" He yelled. "We got a message!"

He went outside for a minute to talk to one of the uniforms who had secured the scene and ask them if they had seen it when they were securing the scene, and if they had, why hadn't they told him?

He took out his phone and texted Roxie.

"The phrase "Lonely, lonely, we came so close before" mean anything to you?"