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2nd bite - action
[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!)
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!)
[action]
Jilly was just fucking everywhere. Even when she wasn't around.]
You know Jilly too, do ya?
[In the back of her mind she wants to laugh at the fact that killing someone round these parts is so easy. People just think they go missing all the time.]
[action]
How could he have missed it? The woman looks too much like his best friend for it to be coincidental, no matter what claims Jilly's made about dopplegangers existing in Luceti. Maybe she's older than she ought to be if she were from the same point in time. But years don't really seem to matter much around here, do they?
Geordie shakes his head, feeling annoyed with himself for missing so obvious.]
You're Raylene, aren't you? Raylene Carter?
[action]
Shit. This is what happens, she thinks, when you get try and weasel around shit alone. This is what happens when you're alone. This is what happens when you don't have Pinky here to help you.
She's almost frozen, her eyes are fixed away from Geordie and she looks - once more - like she's torn between bolting or fighting. Just like when she first saw Jilly.]
I told you my name before. It's Helen.
[The shittiest lie she ever did tell. Like hell she'd just go out and admit it.]
[action]
It's okay. If you are Raylene, Jilly's mentioned you before. She misses you and I know she'll be happy to see you when she gets back. Even if you're not, hell, you look a lot like her. She'd love to meet you just for that.
Re: [action]
She always made herself remember though, the most important factor: Jilly left her. It might be a grudge she's held onto but it's just to her. So she curls her lip at his pacifying gesture and doesn't pretend anymore.]
You don't know a goddamn thing 'bout me; me and Jill least of all - if you really think that's gonna make me change my mind.
[action]
Del Carter was not a man Geordie would ever look upon with kindness.]
It probably doesn't mean much, but if you ever need to talk? You're not the only one with war stories to share.
[action]
War stories? Hah. That's real funny. That makes it sound like any of that shit was anyone's game.
[Her nice thick as mud accent clears a little with how she speaks, she sounds a little more crisp and it's possible that hick twang is a show. A lot about her is.]
It wasn't war, it was fucking survival. [She pauses...gives him an even, somber look.] Still is.
[And just like that...she realizes she let him see possibly a little too much hurt. Anger is what she should have stuck with, anger was safe. She stuffs her splintered hands in her pockets.]
Tell Jilly I said 'hi.'
[She smirks, makes the expression nasty on purpose and starts to stalk away soaking in her anger again.]