Caitlin. (kissmygrits) wrote in awoken_rp, @ 2016-08-22 12:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: caitlin macdougall, character: james crawford, rating: pg-13, status: in progress, type: private |
First Meeting
Date: Thursday, August 18th, 2031 (backdated)
Time: 22:00
Location: The Bearded Lady, Brooklyn, NY (to start with)
Characters: Caitlin kissmygrits and James Crawford artic_freeze
Description: First meeting randomness
Status/Rating: Private, In Progress, PG-13: language
It was a slow night at the Bearded Lady. The owner had already sent two of the other bartenders home, as Caitlin had volunteered to stay. There were a few regulars nursing their favorite poison, but most folks had steered clear.. likely spending time with family and friends in safe places before the storm was supposed to hit on Saturday. The redhead didn't really have anybody like that, though, aside from Alek and Liliana. And they were no doubt together preparing for their 'Three Musketeers Mission' that was slated to start the next evening.
Cait had spent most of the day before her shift reading up on lightning. Its conductors. Its grounders. She was a researcher. She loved books, she loved learning, and if she wasn't knee-deep in blood and guts at the local hospitals, she was often poring over some kind of medical textbook. Her dream was to be a paramedic, but it just didn't seem like it was going to happen. One thing she hadn't ever done as of yet, though, was study her own powers. Yeah, she was sort of like a real-life Storm. What did that mean, however? Knowing she was going to be tramping out into the thick of the impending wild magic tornadoes required that she understand more of what she was capable of. And she hadn't ever really learned about electricity. Or lightning bolts in general.
So her eyes were fucking tired by the time she got into the bar that afternoon.. but she felt a bit more knowledgeable about the crazy shit that shot out of her fingertips. Probably a very good thing.
She wiped down the bar for what seemed like the umpteenth time, straightened all of the liquor bottles and turned their labels directly forward, and then offered refills to the two remaining customers. Their eyes were glued to the tvs, though, focusing on the news reports about what the storm had done in Philadelphia. The signal was shit, crackling and spitting, but that was expected. The Fault had truly done a number on technology in general. It was a miracle that they had anything left that even partially worked. The newscasters of late were grim, not bothering to sugarcoat or drizzle honey on anything they said. This was a pretty big one. It had devastated Philly.
The bartender returned to her post, taking a sip of her water through her customary bright pink straw. God, she was going to die of boredom before the end of the evening! She flipped open the notebook she had been scritch-scratching in and wrote down several more reminders for their trip the next night. Wear rings on all fingers. Don't forget to pack matches. Was there anything else? She straightened and blew an errant red lock of hair out of her eyes.