𝖈𝖎𝖗𝖎 𝔬𝔣 𝔠𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔞 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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meadowlarklogs2018-09-14 03:24 pm
persists) wrote in meadowlarklogs2018-09-14 03:24 pm
Entry tags:
— open log
WHO: ciri and u
WHERE: all over
WHEN: doesn't matter
WHAT: being dumb
NOTES OR WARNINGS: self harm, technically...
one — the club scene
[ There's something she's learned from Dandelion and his associates quite some time ago — loose lips are more useful than you'd imagine. A bit ... vulgar, but when information is so important, finding those willing to offer it was crucial.
Ciri knows best — how drunkards and sloshes spill their hearts out to a pretty girl. She gets an outfit with a hood, one masking the ugly scar ripping up the side of her face. With the limited freedom she has, she hopes to interweave in the kinetic crowd of the club she finds herself in.
It's raw, it's gritty — the sound of high-pitched electronica nothing more than a foreign sound to the woman. She must admit, even when she traveled to other worlds... she still finds the change fascinating. It's no simple string or drum. It's faster than that, more precise and quickened. Ciri likes it.
For now, she plans to take things easy — hang outside among some of the lingerers who instead rev engines of their hoverbikes, showing off the latest equipment and hardware installed. The music spills out to them as people pass by, let in by bouncers. Ciri'll head in too eventually, but...
Luckily, she asked you to tag along. ]
They're beautiful. [ She says in a slight trance, sighing at the craftsmanship of the vehicles. ] The silver, the iridescent glimmer to its paint — they practically sparkle like stars...
---
two — the safehouse scene
[ A few bad hangovers later, Ciri is back in the safehouse kitchen with little to no privacy. It's not as if she cared at this point — she has a place to sleep, bathe, and come back to. It's something.
Ciri's keeping to herself, seemingly deep in thought as she stands over the sink of the kitchen. She had just cut something up for lunch — but as she holds the blade to her palm, it seems... there's something off.
With a quick slice, anyone can hear Ciri wince and recoil, immediately grasping at the fresh cut wound that drips blood down the drain. ]
Come on — come on. Glow —
[ She's mumbling to herself while bleeding, nbd. ]
---
three — the house-hunting scene
Yeah?! This place rivals a pig pen — to hell with you too! No one in rags can afford the riches you demand!
[ A dramatic kick sends a trashcan bumbling down a flight of stairs, followed closely by the totally not suspicious Ciri. It seems that the girl was looking at possible housing — places to rest her head, but even unsavory places have their price. Prices she can't afford. A few hotheaded comments and she makes an enemy with a possible landlord, but Ciri is too prideful to be here now.
Whether she asked to meet up or your paths cross, it's hard to ignore the trashcan rolling down the street. ]
WHERE: all over
WHEN: doesn't matter
WHAT: being dumb
NOTES OR WARNINGS: self harm, technically...
one — the club scene
[ There's something she's learned from Dandelion and his associates quite some time ago — loose lips are more useful than you'd imagine. A bit ... vulgar, but when information is so important, finding those willing to offer it was crucial.
Ciri knows best — how drunkards and sloshes spill their hearts out to a pretty girl. She gets an outfit with a hood, one masking the ugly scar ripping up the side of her face. With the limited freedom she has, she hopes to interweave in the kinetic crowd of the club she finds herself in.
It's raw, it's gritty — the sound of high-pitched electronica nothing more than a foreign sound to the woman. She must admit, even when she traveled to other worlds... she still finds the change fascinating. It's no simple string or drum. It's faster than that, more precise and quickened. Ciri likes it.
For now, she plans to take things easy — hang outside among some of the lingerers who instead rev engines of their hoverbikes, showing off the latest equipment and hardware installed. The music spills out to them as people pass by, let in by bouncers. Ciri'll head in too eventually, but...
Luckily, she asked you to tag along. ]
They're beautiful. [ She says in a slight trance, sighing at the craftsmanship of the vehicles. ] The silver, the iridescent glimmer to its paint — they practically sparkle like stars...
---
two — the safehouse scene
[ A few bad hangovers later, Ciri is back in the safehouse kitchen with little to no privacy. It's not as if she cared at this point — she has a place to sleep, bathe, and come back to. It's something.
Ciri's keeping to herself, seemingly deep in thought as she stands over the sink of the kitchen. She had just cut something up for lunch — but as she holds the blade to her palm, it seems... there's something off.
With a quick slice, anyone can hear Ciri wince and recoil, immediately grasping at the fresh cut wound that drips blood down the drain. ]
Come on — come on. Glow —
[ She's mumbling to herself while bleeding, nbd. ]
---
three — the house-hunting scene
Yeah?! This place rivals a pig pen — to hell with you too! No one in rags can afford the riches you demand!
[ A dramatic kick sends a trashcan bumbling down a flight of stairs, followed closely by the totally not suspicious Ciri. It seems that the girl was looking at possible housing — places to rest her head, but even unsavory places have their price. Prices she can't afford. A few hotheaded comments and she makes an enemy with a possible landlord, but Ciri is too prideful to be here now.
Whether she asked to meet up or your paths cross, it's hard to ignore the trashcan rolling down the street. ]
no subject
Oh. Is that the impression you're giving off? A mild-mannered citizen was my first guess, but from this angle? A true deviant, through and through. One who knows not how to take no as an answer.
[ She drags that last sentence out, as if her words became daggers. It was a clear tease. ]
I mean it, you know.
no subject
Thank you. [ For the promise of future help. His smile evens out, a sincere little thing. ]
My offer to patch you up the old-fashioned way also stands, for the record. [ a pointed tip of his head. ] No shortcuts, and I'm still not a doctor, but.
[ he knows enough to be of use with most injuries. ]
no subject
[ She's a bit mad about it! Like damn, y'all!!! ]
Doctor or not, so long as you don't stitch my hand to my hip or cut off fingers, I'll be fine.