Time is all around, except inside my clock
Ruvin has had several very startling realizations. The first, she's almost seventeen. In just under a week, she will be. She'd all but forgotten about birthdays.
The second--she's been in Chicago for a year, as of today. She's paused where she is, in the middle of crossing a street to look up at the sky in surprise.
Winny is standing in front of a toy store bawling. She just finished talking to Gail and Fritz in the Conrad, who are going back to South America.
She told them she's not going with.
Karrin Murphy is contemplating a movie theater, wondering if any of the films currently playing are things that Hawkes or Vansen (or preferably both) would be interested in. They've all been working a lot lately. It would be good to have a break, even just for a few hours, away from the questions and needs of the compound's people.
Portia Kilgaur is leaving a liquor store, a stack of folders under one arm and a plastic bag full of booze gripped in her opposite hand. She's been a fucking droopy-assed, weeping pussy long enough. It's time to get back to work.
Misaki Kirihara is outside of the Kashtta, looking up at the gray skies and the snow with something like dismay. She's huddled into her trench coat, pink-cheeked, her hands cupping a fast food bag for warmth. COLD. Way too cold. She does not approve.
Den Varlis has come up for air. So to speak. He's lurking, contemplating a Christmas display in a pet store and wondering what he should get Sark for Christmas.
'tis the season, after all.
Cy is playing dropbears in Grant Park. Ragnar has just found this out. She is being roundly scolded by the older cat while she purrs. Loudly. With great cheer.
Adrian Vela is trying to stop himself from killing someone. He has the man pinned in an alley, the smell of urine strong on the air. Adrian's stomach twists in disgust. The coward wet himself.
"I swear to god I don't know what you're talking about!"
Adrian snarls, leaning in. He wants to dismember this man. He wants to tear him to pieces. He knows in part it's because he's gone so long without killing J--but that's not it. That's not all. This is the person Adam told him saw Rachel and Wes get taken.
"You didn't stop it. You didn't do shit."
"Oh god--please don't kill me."
Aniki is in a bookstore, staring at the shelves. She hasn't... read that other one. That book that's supposedly about Beka. She can't. Now--well. Now, she's staring at the rest of the books by that writer, her fingers resting gently on their spines.
Tomei is eating. Well, and cooking. He's in the Conrad's basement, having raided a local grocery store, making lots and lots of food as traditional to his home and preferences as possible. Lots of thick, meaty, heavy things. He's not the best cook in the world, but he's passable, and hey, he's at least trying.
...And yes, there's still mistletoe over his head.
Suou Pavlichenko is eating ice cream, about a block from the O's headquarters. It is never too cold for ice cream.
The second--she's been in Chicago for a year, as of today. She's paused where she is, in the middle of crossing a street to look up at the sky in surprise.
Winny is standing in front of a toy store bawling. She just finished talking to Gail and Fritz in the Conrad, who are going back to South America.
She told them she's not going with.
Karrin Murphy is contemplating a movie theater, wondering if any of the films currently playing are things that Hawkes or Vansen (or preferably both) would be interested in. They've all been working a lot lately. It would be good to have a break, even just for a few hours, away from the questions and needs of the compound's people.
Portia Kilgaur is leaving a liquor store, a stack of folders under one arm and a plastic bag full of booze gripped in her opposite hand. She's been a fucking droopy-assed, weeping pussy long enough. It's time to get back to work.
Misaki Kirihara is outside of the Kashtta, looking up at the gray skies and the snow with something like dismay. She's huddled into her trench coat, pink-cheeked, her hands cupping a fast food bag for warmth. COLD. Way too cold. She does not approve.
Den Varlis has come up for air. So to speak. He's lurking, contemplating a Christmas display in a pet store and wondering what he should get Sark for Christmas.
'tis the season, after all.
Cy is playing dropbears in Grant Park. Ragnar has just found this out. She is being roundly scolded by the older cat while she purrs. Loudly. With great cheer.
Adrian Vela is trying to stop himself from killing someone. He has the man pinned in an alley, the smell of urine strong on the air. Adrian's stomach twists in disgust. The coward wet himself.
"I swear to god I don't know what you're talking about!"
Adrian snarls, leaning in. He wants to dismember this man. He wants to tear him to pieces. He knows in part it's because he's gone so long without killing J--but that's not it. That's not all. This is the person Adam told him saw Rachel and Wes get taken.
"You didn't stop it. You didn't do shit."
"Oh god--please don't kill me."
Aniki is in a bookstore, staring at the shelves. She hasn't... read that other one. That book that's supposedly about Beka. She can't. Now--well. Now, she's staring at the rest of the books by that writer, her fingers resting gently on their spines.
Tomei is eating. Well, and cooking. He's in the Conrad's basement, having raided a local grocery store, making lots and lots of food as traditional to his home and preferences as possible. Lots of thick, meaty, heavy things. He's not the best cook in the world, but he's passable, and hey, he's at least trying.
...And yes, there's still mistletoe over his head.
Suou Pavlichenko is eating ice cream, about a block from the O's headquarters. It is never too cold for ice cream.