Log; Kin and Misha the Motel Roof Who: Misha and Kin What: Introductions Where: The Motel Roof When: 1/18 11PM Warnings/Rating: PG-13 for language probably
Kin, as a general rule, hated to be a stereotype. She was tall for a Japanese woman at least, but she knew how to use a Katana, had grown up with the Yakuza and preferred fish over beef. Some things were hard to avoid. They were landlocked here though so the fish was going to be in question--she had a New Yorker's admittedly pretentious belief that everything there including the food was better than just about everywhere else. Another cliche, but one she happens to be fine with because it's usually true.
Still, she had found some instant miso soup in the 'Asian' section of the town's modest grocery store and some salmon from the 'fresh old fashioned butcher shop' counter. Ha. Whatever. It was food and able to be cooked on the hot plate plug in stove thing she had bought. Food was food, and insomnia was insomnia, so she was having a late dinner on the roof alone because fuck all.
It was so goddamn quiet here. How did people deal with it? But as an upside she could see the stars. In Brooklyn where she had spent her childhood the Stars were impossible to see between the light pollution and the ever present fog, she pretty much only got to see them when work took her upstate or on a drive to a whole 'nother state. So this was kind of nice, admittedly, maybe she would start to learn the constellations since with everything sleep probably wasn't going to be a constant anytime soon.