chicks love power

[herturn]

WHO: Nina Sayers | herturn and YOU
WHERE: Around the City! From her way to Gemma's London to Terry's apartment with many, many detours. Because she's bound to get lost in this state.
WHEN: Monday evening/night!
WARNINGS: IDK. Please don't hurt her.
SUMMARY: Gemma's power had an effect on Nina. Basically, she's high on power! So she'll just be acting more

Comments

[specifythepoint]

Arthur is looking as sharply dressed as he usually does as he walks down the street, and he notices her before she notices him, but that's short lived. She's a tiny thing, small like Ariadne but frailer. She looks like she could break with just a tiny bit of pressure on her bones, like a bird.

Whose projection could this possibly be?

It's pure military habit that makes him stop and look her over. Arthur sees things that other people miss because he understands the details of things: that and the glow around her, something that occasionally happens in dreams.

But the totem doesn't lie.

Arthur pauses for long enough that he can be classified as staring.

[herturn]

Nina is touching her neck idly as she walks, looking like she's feeling the texture of her skin for the very first time. She makes a circular and slow movement with her head as she looks down, then slowly brings her eyes upwards to observe something in the distance with very careful attention.

She only notices a man standing before her when her eyes settle back on the street. Any remains of that glow fade swiftly in that moment. A soft but genuine grin then forms, somewhere between a bashful and amused, like she just remembered something funny and unrelated. Nina's tone is drowsy and playful.

"Is there something on my face?"

[specifythepoint]

He starts for a moment, and he puts his fingers casually in his pant pockets. "No, there's nothing," he tells her, because there isn't. "Sorry, I think your bone structure is remarkable."

Lie.

"I didn't mean to stare."

[herturn]

Nina chuckles at that, like the arrangement and timing of his words produced the perfect quip. She shrugs and brushes her hair with her fingers, shaking her head softly. He looks so serene and composed, like a true gentleman. Maybe even a prince.

"Why, thank you."

Her gaze lowers with the last word. Nina frowns when she notices her hands after a pause (a smaller wave of a pattern of light, too quick to be noticed), rubbing her fingertips together like someone spreading ash on their digits with another dazed smile on her lips.

"... My hands are sweaty." It's a mutter, contemplative and absent-minded.

She feels like she's said this before.

[specifythepoint]

It's almost instinct to pull a handkerchief out of an inner coat pocket when she says that - gentlemanly, manners that Arthur has from long-ago, before the military. This isn't a mark and she isn't a coworker, and there's something about her that's...he's not entirely sure.

"Here," he offers with a small smile. Prepared for anything. "If you'd like it."

[herturn]

It takes her a little while go look back up and focus on the offer. She arches her eyebrow slowly.

"Thank you." She says, reaching for the handkerchief. Nina is very thorough about cleansing her hands without hurry or attention dedicated to the gentleman. After a moment she finds it doesn't seem to be as effective as she'd like. There's still a strange sensation on her fingers, skin quivering with a texture she didn't notice before.

Nina finally readdresses the stranger, handing it back.

"What's your name?"

[specifythepoint]

He takes it back, folding it carefully and putting it back in his pocket, and then looking back at her. He's still not sure exactly what he saw, but he's willing to talk to this girl.

"I'm Arthur," he tells her softly. "I'm new here."

[herturn]

Like the king, she thinks. Nina's smile softens as she continues to gaze at him with a different sort of interest in her eyes. She wonders if he's an imPort like her...

"Oh, are you?" An exhale. "What kind of new?"

[specifythepoint]

He smiles just a little, as it it can make someone at ease, but his smiles are always a little guarded, careful.

"The kind that doesn't have a choice."

[herturn]

There's a little spark of anticipation in her eyes, lips parting to speak a beat before words are uttered. She tries to make sure she remembers the right term for what she wants to say.

What are they called...

Oh, that's right.

"Are you an imPort?" She doesn't smile at the prospect, rather at her little accomplishment.

[specifythepoint]

He almost laughs. That's a perfect title, imPort, because that's exactly what they are. The sound comes out amused, aborted. "Yes," he assures her. "I didn't know that's what we were called, but yes."

He takes another moment. "You know my name, what's yours?"

[herturn]

"It is. It's a funny term, isn't it? Like we're commodities." Her grin broadens again with another exhale. She wouldn't find that very funny if she were feeling like her usual self.

"My name..." She closes her eyes, again, apparently amused with something else. She then looks back up at him. "Is Nina."