The Dome :: An Original Character RPG
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January 15th, 2014
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| Who: Kenzie and Lance Where: Home When: Late morning Kenzie had been released from the hospital that morning, and was escorted back home with Lance. She had been fed and given water, her minor injuries treated. She was feeling better, at least physically. Mentally she felt… numb, maybe. Being so close to death twice, and then being set on fire... well, it fucked up a person’s psyche, for sure. More so when the fire did nothing but burn her clothes. Because Kenzie hadn’t felt a thing. Hadn’t burned to death. There was no sign of burns on her body, no agonizing pain. She hadn’t told the doctors that part. Despite the knowledge of werewolves and vampires, Kenzie wasn’t sure they would have believed her. She hadn’t told Lance either, because she hadn’t wanted anyone to overhear them in her hospital room. ( If I tell you something... swear you won't tell anyone. ) | ||||||||
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December 2nd, 2013
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| Who: Kenzie and Lance When: Morning Where: Home It was a little after ten by the time Kenzie actually woke up. She had stayed in one of the empty rooms, lulled to sleep by the rain the night before after spending a bit of time with Mannix. Still feeling groggy when she woke, Kenzie got her shoes on and left the brothel to head home, craving a cigarette and fighting a throbbing headache. It was still ridiculously cold out and rain continued to sprinkle, chilling her to the bone before she got even a block away. Finally she made it home, shivering and hoping Zania wasn’t still there, lounging around like she belonged. Kenzie wasn’t in the mood to deal with that. Closing the front door behind her, Kenzie toed out of her shoes and headed for her bedroom to grab a cigarette and change into dry clothes. ( Too worried about getting laid. ) | ||||||||
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November 12th, 2013
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| Who: Kenzie and Lance When: extremely early Where: Home After Kenzie left Mickey and the barn party, she wandered toward O’Reilly’s pub where she had a much more entertaining time drinking and occasionally flirting with a few of the patrons. Flirting tended to get her free drinks, and despite the fact that she had money to spend, free was always better. Flirting also brought men closer to her, and she had been able to pocket a pretty cool lighter and a few dollars that one hadn’t bothered to keep in his wallet. Kenzie stayed until closing and then stumbled out into the night, noting it felt much chillier than it had when she first arrived. While she shivered a bit, the alcohol coursing through her kept her warm enough on her slow walk home. Her state of inebriation had shifted at some point during the evening and Kenzie had long since passed the phase of flirtations and giggles. She felt shaky and temperamental, increasingly irritated that it sounded as if her heart were beating in her ears. Well, one ear, anyway. The other was useless. That didn’t keep it from beginning to ache, and Kenzie pressed her palm against it, squeezing her eyes shut against memories that wanted to resurface. She could almost feel the big, strong hand punching against the side of her head until blood trickled from her ear and down her neck. More than anything, Kenzie hated the nights when she couldn’t turn her mind off. Getting high or wasted usually accomplished it for her, but if anything, the alcohol tonight seemed to only make it worse. ( I don't wanna be alone ) | ||||||||
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October 16th, 2013
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| Who: Lance and Kenzie Where: home When: after dark Warnings: Language After spending most of her day at the brothel, Kenzie returned home, sleepy but debating whether or not she wanted to go to the greenhouse to buy more weed. But that meant dealing with Skylar, and maybe she was still a little irked with him over the whole Clementine thing. Kenzie was weighing her options as she stepped into the house. "Lance?" She didn't know if he would be home, and if he was, if he was alone this time. ( do you like a guy? ) | ||||||||
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September 11th, 2013
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| Who: Kenzie and Lance Where: their house When: afternoon Lance had gotten home just before dawn and went straight to bed. Then he hadn't gotten up again. Most of the day had passed and he was still there, buried under blankets, lacking the ability to do more than lay there and wallow. He felt miserable. He was useless. He didn't have a job. He didn't have a real life. And he'd depressed some girl by having sex with her. He was a complete and utter fuck up. He wasn't even worth the effort to try and kill himself. Rolling over he pulled the blanket over his head, one arm hanging off the bed, tingling from all the blood rushing to it. But it was too heavy to lift. Everything was too heavy. Kenzie had slept in for a lot of the morning, feeling like she was hungover from her night with Mannix. It wasn't a bad feeling, necessarily, and she was a lot more relaxed than she had been in weeks. Without bothering to do much with her hair, Kenzie slipped on her clothes and left the brothel to walk back to the home she still technically shared with her cousin. She yawned a few times and rubbed her hands over her face,before wiping the smeared mascara from her palm to the thighs of her jeans. When she walked into the house, she called for Lance. She had no idea whether or not he was home, but she figured she would find him eventually. She always did. Kenzie started back toward his bedroom. "Lance." ( everything hurt ) | ||||||||
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August 25th, 2013
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| Who: Kenzie and Lance Where: Their house When: Late Warnings: Language Lance was definitely stumbling as he made his way up to the house, drunk on the moonshine in his hand that he’d been sipping on since he’d left Zania and her club. Part of him was wondering if he should have felt bad about what happened. The part where she’d said pretty explicitly that she didn’t do that sort of thing, then he’d gone and done it with her. He was also a little worried she’d want to be his girlfriend. He didn’t do girlfriends. Trainwrecks didn’t do girlfriends. Stumbling up the first few stairs he grabbed the railing just in time to spin himself and land on his butt on the top step, laying back on the porch itself, all the while managing not to spill a drop out of the open jar. Sign of a talented drunk. His nose caught a sweeter smell in the air, head lolling to one side to see his cousin there. “Tell me that’s what I think it is.” ( “Better to be stalked than… than being the stalker? Something. ) | ||||||||
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The Dome :: An Original Character RPG
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