[ If Eula is self-conscious about walking around in what is patently a mustard yellow Power Rangers suit, then she's not showing it. In point of fact, as she's leaning against the bar and craning her neck to look at the offerings, she has her helmet tucked casually under her arm like she's used to wearing this thing. Which she isn't, don't get her wrong, she's just kind of feeling herself. Some people thrive in lycra; it explains the prominence and popularity of yoga pants. ]
I know, you're amazed by my steely resolve and ability to see past the batshit insanity of my current situation. It's because I'm severely repressing my feelings so I can let them out later. Probably scream into a pillow or something, I've heard that helps. But... so does hard liquor.
» SAFEHOUSE
A. Hey, wanna trade? [ Eula is standing at the foot of someone's bed, or at least she assumes it's theirs because they're sitting on it. She's holding a garish lime green knitted garment in one hand, and she pauses to wrinkle her nose at it before she holds it out again, giving it a little demonstrative shake. ] It's definitely your colour. Matches your eyes.
B. [ If she's not trading clothes, she's exploring the place. There are a lot of things she's supposed to read, but none of them have sufficiently caught her interest, and she's not about to dig into the history of a place that still feels as unreal as Narnia when she could be poking around this place. It turns out to be a good idea, since the second door she opens after the restroom is a room home to a metric fuckton of weed.
She leaves the weed room in kind of a daze, wandering into the kitchen and poking her head in. ]
Hey, so. Quick question. Is that weed, like, for anyone? To just have?
» WILDCARD
[ hmu with whatever!! once she's allowed out eula will be hanging around at the fight clubs trying to test her power so if anyone wants to do a thread of that variety lmk, i'm contactable at crowders :^) ]
eula salucci — original
So what's good here?
[ If Eula is self-conscious about walking around in what is patently a mustard yellow Power Rangers suit, then she's not showing it. In point of fact, as she's leaning against the bar and craning her neck to look at the offerings, she has her helmet tucked casually under her arm like she's used to wearing this thing. Which she isn't, don't get her wrong, she's just kind of feeling herself. Some people thrive in lycra; it explains the prominence and popularity of yoga pants. ]
I know, you're amazed by my steely resolve and ability to see past the batshit insanity of my current situation. It's because I'm severely repressing my feelings so I can let them out later. Probably scream into a pillow or something, I've heard that helps. But... so does hard liquor.
» SAFEHOUSE
A.
Hey, wanna trade? [ Eula is standing at the foot of someone's bed, or at least she assumes it's theirs because they're sitting on it. She's holding a garish lime green knitted garment in one hand, and she pauses to wrinkle her nose at it before she holds it out again, giving it a little demonstrative shake. ] It's definitely your colour. Matches your eyes.
B.
[ If she's not trading clothes, she's exploring the place. There are a lot of things she's supposed to read, but none of them have sufficiently caught her interest, and she's not about to dig into the history of a place that still feels as unreal as Narnia when she could be poking around this place. It turns out to be a good idea, since the second door she opens after the restroom is a room home to a metric fuckton of weed.
She leaves the weed room in kind of a daze, wandering into the kitchen and poking her head in. ]
Hey, so. Quick question. Is that weed, like, for anyone? To just have?
» WILDCARD
[ hmu with whatever!! once she's allowed out eula will be hanging around at the fight clubs trying to test her power so if anyone wants to do a thread of that variety lmk, i'm contactable at