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[Jan. 23rd, 2011|05:36 pm] |
*having been cast back into the world, wounded and unhealed, has made her way to Grand Fork—a place infamous for its dark alleys and no-good-doers (the perfect spot to cower a while, maybe figure out how to function through the pain of her every movement)*
*slinks into a seedy pub late one night and crawls into a shadowy booth in the corner, extinguishing the weak light overhead with a thought* *doesn't anticipate anyone paying attention to her, where all two patrons are slumped over the bar and the barkeep is too busy watching an old game rerun on the tube*
*gnaws the back of her hand until it bleeds (hurts, it hurts, always hurts), lapping the dark brine slowly, slowly, glaring at the humans with glittering eyes* |
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[Jan. 12th, 2011|07:43 pm] |
*Travels onwards for his magical mystery tour or Orë with Olórin.*
*Well, he says travels, it would be more accurate to say that they're sitting in a traffic jam and have been for the last hour, and this is all part of the experience apparently.*
*Tries doodling on a pad to take his mind off it but ends up jotting down theories to explain why this is happening.*
*Hisses.* It doesn't make any sense, there's no accidents, there's no road-works, why doesn't anything in this world work the way it should? |
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morose
irate