four; action
A.) 1647 Albright Lane;
[Every morning, the Milkman delivers fresh milk to the house. And every morning, Sakuya dutifully pours it out. She's taken the adage to not drink the milk to heart.
But this morning is different. As always, milk is delivered, and Sakuya pours it out, but this morning, a little while after she pours the milk out, she starts to feel strange. She recognizes the feeling of being droned from back when she was part-droned before, but now? Now there's that, plus a distinct desire to hurt something. To draw a beautiful symphony of screams on a silver blade. Her eyes, normally bright blue, are now a dark, dark red.
Anyone passing by might hear the screams of drone children coming from the basement as Sakuya plays them with her knives. She leaves what's left of them down there, and doesn't even bother cleaning the blood off her dress as she ascends the stairs.]
B.) around town;
[Sakuya's still wearing her blood-soaked dress, knives out, as she walks the streets. There's dried blood on that sharp silver, but she doesn't seem to notice or care. Her eyes are still red, and she's looking. The drones aren't enough to satisfy the bloodlust running through her system. Where's something else she can paint red?]
[Every morning, the Milkman delivers fresh milk to the house. And every morning, Sakuya dutifully pours it out. She's taken the adage to not drink the milk to heart.
But this morning is different. As always, milk is delivered, and Sakuya pours it out, but this morning, a little while after she pours the milk out, she starts to feel strange. She recognizes the feeling of being droned from back when she was part-droned before, but now? Now there's that, plus a distinct desire to hurt something. To draw a beautiful symphony of screams on a silver blade. Her eyes, normally bright blue, are now a dark, dark red.
Anyone passing by might hear the screams of drone children coming from the basement as Sakuya plays them with her knives. She leaves what's left of them down there, and doesn't even bother cleaning the blood off her dress as she ascends the stairs.]
B.) around town;
[Sakuya's still wearing her blood-soaked dress, knives out, as she walks the streets. There's dried blood on that sharp silver, but she doesn't seem to notice or care. Her eyes are still red, and she's looking. The drones aren't enough to satisfy the bloodlust running through her system. Where's something else she can paint red?]