[locked] [backdated] what good is an unbreakable heart
It's Thursday night, and unlike certain members of our illustrious Chitown community, we know exactly where Iris is. She's wandering around the lobby of a large, noisy building, her senses bombarded by strange sights and alien scents, scanning the crowd for one Molly Fuchizaki.
At least she recognises the smell of popcorn; Phoebe introduced her to that much. She can't even begin to figure out what's with the bright-hued chemical concoctions that people are apparently dispensing themselves as drinks, though. Don't get her wrong, she's used to drinking some things that look terrible, but these don't smell even vaguely nutritious.
She's dressed up reasonably smart for the occasion. Not in the new outfit her closet spawned for her today, though. A wedding dress, with fake wings attached, is really not the look she wants to go for-- now or maybe ever. She'd rather have the real thing.
The wings, that is, not the wedding. That's a whole other kettle of tuna.
Instead, she's rocking the innocent look-- just for you, Molly-- and looking quite appallingly nervous. If she'd known this place was going to be so chaotic, she'd probably have picked home, instead-- though that comes with its own set of tensions. Still, the blinking lights, blaring music, and the sound of children screaming as they chase each other around the movie theater's foyer are quickly pushing this girl from a sleepy village into mental overload, and increasing the urgency of her search. If she can at least find Molly and tamp down some of her anxiety, she might be able to keep from spiralling into full-on confusion.
Because those nerves aren't helping. In the time since she met Molly, her longing to be close to someone who understands has swelled into a need. She still plays the angel's words over in her head on a nightly basis: The way you felt to me -- it was just. Right. I see so much in you, and it's so beautiful.... They've become her lifeline, in a world that for the most part disavows the fact that anything like her could be. She may not know if she can love Molly, but right now she, too, is terrified of losing her. On this particular matter-- and some days it's all that matters to her-- she's almost all that she's got.
Her heart rate jumps every time she feels out an angel, and she's beginning to find this situation unbearable when finally she spots Molly in the crowd, her energy-senses latching on half a second before her eyes. Her face lighting up, she's about ready to skip the formalities; if Molly's own senses weren't heightened, she'd be taken quite off guard as Iris insists on barrelling towards her and wrapping her in a fierce and sudden hug.
And then she squeaks and jumps apart and fiddles with her hair, because that totally wasn't appropriate, probably, maybe, it's not like she's ever done this before, but-- whatever.
"Um. Hi. Sorry. I was just, like-- it's really great to see you."
At least she recognises the smell of popcorn; Phoebe introduced her to that much. She can't even begin to figure out what's with the bright-hued chemical concoctions that people are apparently dispensing themselves as drinks, though. Don't get her wrong, she's used to drinking some things that look terrible, but these don't smell even vaguely nutritious.
She's dressed up reasonably smart for the occasion. Not in the new outfit her closet spawned for her today, though. A wedding dress, with fake wings attached, is really not the look she wants to go for-- now or maybe ever. She'd rather have the real thing.
The wings, that is, not the wedding. That's a whole other kettle of tuna.
Instead, she's rocking the innocent look-- just for you, Molly-- and looking quite appallingly nervous. If she'd known this place was going to be so chaotic, she'd probably have picked home, instead-- though that comes with its own set of tensions. Still, the blinking lights, blaring music, and the sound of children screaming as they chase each other around the movie theater's foyer are quickly pushing this girl from a sleepy village into mental overload, and increasing the urgency of her search. If she can at least find Molly and tamp down some of her anxiety, she might be able to keep from spiralling into full-on confusion.
Because those nerves aren't helping. In the time since she met Molly, her longing to be close to someone who understands has swelled into a need. She still plays the angel's words over in her head on a nightly basis: The way you felt to me -- it was just. Right. I see so much in you, and it's so beautiful.... They've become her lifeline, in a world that for the most part disavows the fact that anything like her could be. She may not know if she can love Molly, but right now she, too, is terrified of losing her. On this particular matter-- and some days it's all that matters to her-- she's almost all that she's got.
Her heart rate jumps every time she feels out an angel, and she's beginning to find this situation unbearable when finally she spots Molly in the crowd, her energy-senses latching on half a second before her eyes. Her face lighting up, she's about ready to skip the formalities; if Molly's own senses weren't heightened, she'd be taken quite off guard as Iris insists on barrelling towards her and wrapping her in a fierce and sudden hug.
And then she squeaks and jumps apart and fiddles with her hair, because that totally wasn't appropriate, probably, maybe, it's not like she's ever done this before, but-- whatever.
"Um. Hi. Sorry. I was just, like-- it's really great to see you."