Cassie is in a small coffee shop writing a new song. It seems to be going well. She’s curled up on an old, battered sofa with a cup of tea as she scribbles away in her notebook. However, there’s a series of murmurs in the room and various customers gasping in shock. She looks up with a frown, wondering what’s wrong when everyone seems to be staring at their cups. Looking around the whole room, Cassie glances at her own mug of tea on the coffee table in front of her and gasps herself.
The tea is slowly rising... out of the cup.
Many people instantly head for the door, but Cassie slowly stands and lifts up her mug. Creepy shit does happen in Chicago, she knows this by now. But tea doesn’t float. She watches it rise just above her head before it trembles and drops, going everywhere. Including Cassie’s face. At least it’s not scalding
( ... )
okay clearly I can't write concise tags doyoulikecakeSeptember 24 2010, 16:27:21 UTC
Kaden was in the same coffeeshop, working on a paper -- not for class or work, this time, but for his father, who's coming into town on the weekend and is expecting Kaden to have something to show for his most recent fuckup. He's not entirely in the best of moods because of it, and when his own coffee started floating, along with a number of his paperclips and pens that had gotten scattered all over his table, he decided he was not in the mood for the Rift's shit and started packing his things up.
He managed to get the computer in a bag and the largest stack of his papers clipped together before everything's slammed to the ceiling.
Fuck.
The table just narrowly misses him, but a good chunk of his books don't. They don't hurt, exactly, though he can tell he's going to come out of this bruised to all hell, not to mention the headache that's going to come from having his head slammed against the ceiling like that. On top of a caffeine headache, since he's trying to wean himself off of the copious amounts he'd been living on
( ... )
Pfft, that is an awesome tag :Dstarryeyed_cassSeptember 24 2010, 17:25:03 UTC
Her breath comes with great effort. She's too busy being terrified and crying to really take the time to calm down and concentrate on breathing properly. There's a sharp, heavy pain on the right side of her chest. Broken ribs and a punctured lung more than likely, but Cassie doesn't really know that. All she knows is how much it hurts.
There's a bitter taste in her mouth which she can't mistake for anything else. The blood scares her more than anything else right now. She doesn't want to and can't actually move, other than it being too painful to move - there's various things lying on top of her.
There's a gasp of relief when something's moved from her head and she can see somewhat. She doesn't know who the person is, but she feels like perhaps she met him once before. Or maybe she dreamt it? Her head's gone all funny right now, so she can't be too sure.
"I... I can't breathe..." Cassie gasps in pain through her sobs, shaking. "My... my chest.. I can't breathe.."
epiclate reply >__< doyoulikecakeSeptember 30 2010, 06:45:07 UTC
Kaden watches her for a moment, trying to judge how much of it is true pain, how much of it is the panic setting in. Whether or not she's going into shock. Those sorts of things.
He's also trying to judge if the vague itching at his shoulderblades is really his Calling. It shouldn't be manifesting this soon, over something so obvious.
Then it occurs to him that she's spoken, and maybe he should react to that instead of just staring at her, studying. So he leans over again, carefully moving more of the furniture off of her, though he's no expert about what he should or shouldn't move. "I'm sure there are ambulances being called already," he says, glancing out the window. Things don't look all that great out there, either -- and if the entire city's just reversed gravity for a second, he doesn't even know if the ambulances will work.
Fucking Rift. It seems like a good thing to blame.
omg, i'm so sorry. ditto D:starryeyed_cassOctober 16 2010, 05:51:19 UTC
It's pretty much a mixture of the two, to be honest. Every breath she draws in hurts, it doesn't feel like she's even taking in air. It's just like every breath is a new wave of pain. Over and over again. And she becomes more panicked and worried for herself. She's even too scared to breathe. It doesn't help in the slightest
( ... )
The tea is slowly rising... out of the cup.
Many people instantly head for the door, but Cassie slowly stands and lifts up her mug. Creepy shit does happen in Chicago, she knows this by now. But tea doesn’t float. She watches it rise just above her head before it trembles and drops, going everywhere. Including Cassie’s face. At least it’s not scalding ( ... )
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He managed to get the computer in a bag and the largest stack of his papers clipped together before everything's slammed to the ceiling.
Fuck.
The table just narrowly misses him, but a good chunk of his books don't. They don't hurt, exactly, though he can tell he's going to come out of this bruised to all hell, not to mention the headache that's going to come from having his head slammed against the ceiling like that. On top of a caffeine headache, since he's trying to wean himself off of the copious amounts he'd been living on ( ... )
Reply
There's a bitter taste in her mouth which she can't mistake for anything else. The blood scares her more than anything else right now. She doesn't want to and can't actually move, other than it being too painful to move - there's various things lying on top of her.
There's a gasp of relief when something's moved from her head and she can see somewhat. She doesn't know who the person is, but she feels like perhaps she met him once before. Or maybe she dreamt it? Her head's gone all funny right now, so she can't be too sure.
"I... I can't breathe..." Cassie gasps in pain through her sobs, shaking. "My... my chest.. I can't breathe.."
Reply
He's also trying to judge if the vague itching at his shoulderblades is really his Calling. It shouldn't be manifesting this soon, over something so obvious.
Then it occurs to him that she's spoken, and maybe he should react to that instead of just staring at her, studying. So he leans over again, carefully moving more of the furniture off of her, though he's no expert about what he should or shouldn't move. "I'm sure there are ambulances being called already," he says, glancing out the window. Things don't look all that great out there, either -- and if the entire city's just reversed gravity for a second, he doesn't even know if the ambulances will work.
Fucking Rift. It seems like a good thing to blame.
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