Lucy/Kaede (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
long_live_the_queen) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
recolle2018-05-10 07:11 pm
long_live_the_queen) wrote in recolle2018-05-10 07:11 pm
Entry tags:
[Semi-Open]
WHO: Lucy and you!
WHERE: Pen's house for the closed prompt, around Recollé Square and Chata for the rest
WHEN: 5/10ish
WHAT: Someone woke up. It was a terrible experience.
WARNINGS: Language, mentions of death, Lucy being horribly depressing, potential violence against NPCs
[Closed, Pen's house]
[Sickness and herself usually came in two forms: minor, terribly annoying sniffles, or something that came along suddenly and knocked her on her ass.
This was the latter; a fever this time, and Nyu was unprepared to deal with it. Pen was nice, Pen was helpful. Pen let Nyu stay at her house too, when she was too sick and wobbly to get home the first day. She mostly existed as a blanket-cowled lump on the couch afterwards, occasionally plaintively asking for water or tissues and coughing. A lot of coughing.
Eventually, the lump quieted down. The next time she needed to sneeze, a distortion in the air was what grabbed the nearest tissue.
The blankets stirred, and their occupant sat up with a bleary scowl. When she spoke, her voice was a bit deeper and more raspy—hoarse from coughing.]
...the fuck am I?
[Fever be damned, she was going to try standing even if she had to lean on the couch. This was a familiar place, may...be?]
[Open]
[Her fever had broken quickly, but the wretched reality of everything else persisted. She needed to walk somewhere, get some air, though Lucy didn't go far. To the park, not the forest. She was...she was done with forests for awhile.
The horned girl slumped without a hat and with a more usual stalking gait down one of the paths in the Square, though she was too tired to pick out a less-traveled one. She had a brush with her, occasionally flicking drops of paint at the side of the path to try and find an unpainted (and thus unoccupied) bench.
After awhile, she found one; methodically if clumsily painting it. Some of those paint thinner creatures nearby looked slightly offended, but Lucy ignored them. She could see where the flat surfaces were, that would do; Lucy promptly flopped down on it, and dropped her brush over the side.
Lucy didn't say anything, staring up at the patchy half-colored sky.
She looked miserable.]
[Unnecessary Violence (also open)]
"Shit, what's that on your head?"
[Another one. Again. No one had paid this much attention to Lucy's appearance since she was still in high school, and she'd gotten rather used to being ignored. This popped collar asshole seemed set on dredging that back up, and kept following her as she passed by him on the sidewalk.]
"Hey, did you hear me? I said—"
Horns. [Lucy snapped, her hoarse voice more of a growl than usual.]
"You going back to the zoo or something?"
[Lucy stopped, jaw squeezed shut so much to keep from saying anything else her teeth hurt. Her fist was balled up into such a tight fist that it had started to shake, knuckles white.
She's trying to behave. She was. But her patience was already in the garbage today.
An intervention may be required. Or an audience, either/or.]
WHERE: Pen's house for the closed prompt, around Recollé Square and Chata for the rest
WHEN: 5/10ish
WHAT: Someone woke up. It was a terrible experience.
WARNINGS: Language, mentions of death, Lucy being horribly depressing, potential violence against NPCs
[Closed, Pen's house]
[Sickness and herself usually came in two forms: minor, terribly annoying sniffles, or something that came along suddenly and knocked her on her ass.
This was the latter; a fever this time, and Nyu was unprepared to deal with it. Pen was nice, Pen was helpful. Pen let Nyu stay at her house too, when she was too sick and wobbly to get home the first day. She mostly existed as a blanket-cowled lump on the couch afterwards, occasionally plaintively asking for water or tissues and coughing. A lot of coughing.
Eventually, the lump quieted down. The next time she needed to sneeze, a distortion in the air was what grabbed the nearest tissue.
The blankets stirred, and their occupant sat up with a bleary scowl. When she spoke, her voice was a bit deeper and more raspy—hoarse from coughing.]
...the fuck am I?
[Fever be damned, she was going to try standing even if she had to lean on the couch. This was a familiar place, may...be?]
[Open]
[Her fever had broken quickly, but the wretched reality of everything else persisted. She needed to walk somewhere, get some air, though Lucy didn't go far. To the park, not the forest. She was...she was done with forests for awhile.
The horned girl slumped without a hat and with a more usual stalking gait down one of the paths in the Square, though she was too tired to pick out a less-traveled one. She had a brush with her, occasionally flicking drops of paint at the side of the path to try and find an unpainted (and thus unoccupied) bench.
After awhile, she found one; methodically if clumsily painting it. Some of those paint thinner creatures nearby looked slightly offended, but Lucy ignored them. She could see where the flat surfaces were, that would do; Lucy promptly flopped down on it, and dropped her brush over the side.
Lucy didn't say anything, staring up at the patchy half-colored sky.
She looked miserable.]
[Unnecessary Violence (also open)]
"Shit, what's that on your head?"
[Another one. Again. No one had paid this much attention to Lucy's appearance since she was still in high school, and she'd gotten rather used to being ignored. This popped collar asshole seemed set on dredging that back up, and kept following her as she passed by him on the sidewalk.]
"Hey, did you hear me? I said—"
Horns. [Lucy snapped, her hoarse voice more of a growl than usual.]
"You going back to the zoo or something?"
[Lucy stopped, jaw squeezed shut so much to keep from saying anything else her teeth hurt. Her fist was balled up into such a tight fist that it had started to shake, knuckles white.
She's trying to behave. She was. But her patience was already in the garbage today.
An intervention may be required. Or an audience, either/or.]