2nd bite - action

[willak]

[She's been to the Battle Dome, the square in the town. All the lakes and hospital. And that's just in the last day. Raylene's been exploring since she arrived, trying to scope the town out. Figure it's ins and outs.

She's plenty disappointed, to say the least.

Raylene had been avoiding one location at least. The art gallery. Only because of the article she read about her sister back before all ... this. She read that her sister was a painter. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out she might have something there. Of course, staying away only worked for so long before Raylene finally decided 'the hell with it'. She just wanted a feel of the place. A quick look and she'd be out of there.

Admittedly it was the worst freaking idea she'd had that day. She recognized one of Jilly's paintings right away without looking at the little card beside it that gave the name, title and proportions of the canvas; without even knowing the artist's style, the medium she used. Anything. She could just tell.

The fairies gave it away, to be honest. They were all odd and peculiar looking and their skin was almost clay-like in texture. Not all of them had wings but the ones that did had ones that looked thin like flies. Raylene was, for a moment, amazed at how she could get all those colors into a picture without making it all turn to mud.

She started feeling a little hot...thinking about her sister. Like she was wearing too many layers or like someone had turned on the heat from inside. It was...confusing for a while longer before she realized she wasn't breathing right.

Short, almost gasping breaths were the only sounds in the gallery. Good thing she was alone or this would be awkward. Just looking at the painting made her start to freak out. Was she ever going to fucking get over this? Over everything?

The fact that a week ago she buried her sister didn't even once cross her mind. The painting was just so...offensive. It makes her think of all the times they sat together and all the times Jilly told her stories. Fairy tales. Her fists tightened and she sucked in a deep breath. Controlled.]

Goddamnit.

[She practically growled before something clicked through the red. It was like she was possessed the way she suddenly reached for the canvas and tore at it. Raylene crushed the frame and used a piece of it to stab through the painting itself, carving through the canvas like it was butter.

The fairies shredded, she moves onto the next one in a haze. Repeated the motion... again. And again.

And again.

Until all of Jilly's paintings specifically were destroyed. Only then did she release the piece of wood and start to feel...normal again. Normal as she got. More in control. The only thing that made her calm down was the idea of her sister unable to fix this. Because she was gone.

She was out of there like a shot. Anyone that saw her would probably just think she was Jilly. She wasn't dressed in her New Feather clothes anymore. Like Jilly she favored baggy crap when she wasn't looking to impress anyone. Jeans and a big ol' sweatshirt for the winter months covered by a nice peacoat jacket.]

[Later that evening.]

[Raylene found herself a table at a tiny little restaurant to sit down at, it looked as if it was going to start storming tonight and she wanted something hot in her stomach before she ran off to her stupid little apartment. It had nothing special in it, nothing that could identify it as hers. She treated it like a motel room. A bed and ceiling were all she needed and wanted right now anyways.

Turns out handling wood with bare hands like she did lead to splinters and she could be spotted picking them out of her palms over a hot plate of chicken and potatoes. Nothing special.]

( ooc: people are totally allowed to either walk in on Raylene finishing up, leaving, walking around afterwards or at the restaurant! or all four if you want!)

Comments

let me know if this isn't okay

[dragmire]

For someone as large as Ganondorf, it was amazing how quiet and unnoticed he could go when he truly wanted to be. He had not called attention to himself as he entered and watched her tear apart a picture, then another, and another. In truth, it brought him a small measure of amusement. He had his own reasons for disliking fairies.

However, all things must come to an end. Whenever Raylene was ready to leave, there would be an impressively large man blocking the exit. His expression was unreadable, save for it being one of detached interest.

This is fine!

[willak]

When she made ready to leave Raylene wasn't expecting to see anyone watching her. It made her instantly retreat into a more comfortable mentality: that of a wolf.

Sure, it was only in her dreams when she became one but that didn't mean it wasn't any less real. She didn't know how to react to him because he wasn't showing any reaction to her. So she would hold her ground amongst the ruined paintings. She looked vaguely ready to either pounce or run. The look she carried was guarded as she waited for him to do or say something.

[dragmire]

He recognized the animal-like response. It was unexpected and he tilted his head as he was once more forced to size her up. What an unusual woman.

"Do you speak?"

[willak]

"Only when I have a reason," her distrust was obvious in her tone. But then, wouldn't anyone be a little wary having been caught destroying what was assumedly public property with no obvious motivation?

[dragmire]

A small smile formed. A good answer. "Answer me this, then. Is your quarrel with fairies or the one who painted them?"

[willak]

She's still too on edge from her little episode, too riled to think about how she should respond before snarling out, "That ain't none of your business, mister."

If she were more calm, more herself, she might've played dumb like she usually did when confronted. She was too unhinged to care about her image now. A few moments to cool down were needed.

[dragmire]

"Perhaps not. But it is the business of the artist. Perhaps I should speak to them instead."

[at restaurant]

[eightlazylegs]

[Restaurant invasions are one of the few things that are actually familiar to Hermes. He's done them before, at the Chinese takeouts and sushi bars and delis near his apartment in Chicago. Those required stealth. Here...well. Here people were surprised but he'd yet to find anyone attempting to kill him. No Boss around to feed him either, so no real benefit to hiding his identity. This time he'll even walk through the front door.

He waddled his way into the restaurant, scanning for unguarded food. Few people in here right now. Maybe he could bully someone into feeding him. Hermes set himself to crawling up the side of a chair, tentacles lengthening and contracting until he was staring a plate of chicken right in the face.]

Going to finish that?

[at restaurant]

[willak]

[Raylene stared at the.... the octopus for a good long while. She didn't look surprised. More like she was just...weirded out.]

Yes.

[Like hell she was going to give up her food.]

Re: [at restaurant]

[eightlazylegs]

Hrm. [Disappointment. He can usually surprise them long enough to steal a bite.] Will order more?

[at restaurant]

[willak]

Ain't likely.

Re: [at restaurant]

[eightlazylegs]

[More disappointment. Hermes huddles himself on the top of the chair, still looking very annoyed.]

Will wait until done, then eat bones. [There, happy?]

[at restaurant]

[willak]

[She fixes the octopus with another look before shrugging and returning to eating.]

Sure. No skin off my back.

[action]

[keepsmehonest]

[Despite the chill in the air, Geordie has spent the evening playing his fiddle as he strolled around town. The jacket is warm enough and the scarf loosely wraps around his neck helps fight back the cold, as do the fingerless gloves similar to the ones Jilly always favors. But actual gloves, while preferred, would only make his music clumsy.

His music is haunting tonight, speaking to him of the worry and fear building up inside of him. It's been over a week now. He just wants his Jilly back.]

[action]

[willak]

[She finished her food, almost had all the splinters out. Her fingers got too numb to do much with them so she left them in. Soaking them later would have to do.

It's getting late and colder the longer the sun has set so Ray - Helen - whomever she was left the restaurant to walk home. She hears Geordie before she sees him and the melody strikes a foreign cord in her. Remorse? Maybe. She can't quite put a name to it but it makes her heart (what's left of it) feel heavy somehow.

She doesn't do anything to interrupt him. She only stands there and stares from under the awning of the building she only just left. In her baggy clothes and jeans she could pass for Jilly very easily. The thought leaves her stomach churning her dinner.]

[action]

[keepsmehonest]

[He does, again, nearly mistake Helen for Jilly from the corner of his eye. He's still caught up in his music, in the sad song played specifically with a girl in mind.

He hates this powerless feeling. Jilly might be a survivor, but if Geordie had his way, he'd make her life as easy as possible.

And it hurts to see someone dressed so similarly to his friend. But still, he offers a wink. He can't ignore her entirely.]

[action]

[willak]

[She half-jumps at the wink, knocked out of her watching by it. His attention makes her vaguely uncomfortable in ways she can't place, or doesn't want to.

Quickly she shoves her hands in her pockets and moves along. Of course, she has to walk past him to get to her rooms. When she does she mutters a small:]

S'a nice song.

[action]

[keepsmehonest]

[As his bow draws out the last few notes of the tune, he hears her soft compliment. There's no fiddle case for pennies here in Luceti, nor pennies to earn through his busking. The only reinforcement he has is the way people occasionally stop to listen, or compliments like this one.

Geordie smiles at her.] Thanks, Helen.

[action]

[willak]

No problem.

[She turns to speak to him but her steps linger a bit. Just to listen a little more. It's true: it is pretty. But sad.]

Somethin' wrong?

[It comes out before she can check herself. Goddamnit, it's none of her business and she shouldn't try to make it hers. Stupid.]

[Action]

[complicatedliar]

[Loki catches her as she leaves the gallery. He'd been in the area, wandering because he had nothing better to do, thinking about going to look at the paintings because he's fairly certain Pepper isn't there today and maybe he'll finally have some damn peace. And as far as he's concerned, Pepper has no right to tell him where he can and cannot go, particularly if this is a place that's supposed to be free and open.

Though of course, the hypocrisy of the mortals never ceases to amuse him, either.

There's definitely something off about the woman's expression, something that speaks of potential opportunity.]

Something the matter?

[Action] i'm sorry she's awful.

[willak]

No.

[She hisses as she storms past him, still raw and vicious from her outburst and all her energy is boiling in her begging to let her sleep and change into something that can take a bite out of another living thing without a consequence.

Besides, it's none of his business and she's sick of catering to the whims of strangers around here.

And to think this is only her first week.]

[Action]

[complicatedliar]

[He's just as happy to make it an opportunity to annoy someone. So he turns and follows along, footfalls all but silent.]

No call to be rude. It is not I who has used you poorly.

[Action]

[willak]

[That only makes her turn on him like she was on dial, absolutely furious but quiet like she's containing her anger. Still her teeth are bared and her eyes are flashing when she spits at him:]

Ain' nobody used me, mister and I'll be as rude as I damn well please.

[And continues walking.]

[Action]

[complicatedliar]

And incautiously so. [Oh, but this is funContinuing to keep up with her, though of course ready in case her temper snaps and she does something foolish.]

I am forced to wonder what would get a lady so exercised in the art gallery. None of the work is particularly daring.

[Action]

[willak]

Maybe that was my problem.

[There's a hint of a smirk there, like she finds it incredibly funny that she could find art interesting enough to be offended that the gallery didn't meet her standards. Still wrapped up and clinging to her anger, it doesn't show outside of the twitch of her mouth.]