(no subject)
There's a lot of screaming from one corner of the bar; and then River Tam hurries away from the battered figure huddled there, for the stairs.
The woman in the corner is black, and edging up on fifty; she does not dye her hair, and grey is starting to creep in at the corners. Her face looks old, but it might be the blood and the wound along her face and the stony expression that does that. Her legs aren't entirely gone, but close to it; those wounds are old, but the others--her face, her shoulder, others--aren't.
She's dressed in the remains of a Vera Wang business suit, and there's a nine millimeter pistol in her waistband; there's also something heavy in one pocket that's ruining the shape of the jacket. It doesn't make much difference; God's own Chinese laundry couldn't get this suit clean again. The good news, from a certain, highly-limited point of view, is that not all the blood on it came out of her. The percentage is still going up, though.
She is watching the bar. She's good at watching.
[OOC: Post is open, if anyone's around so late...]
The woman in the corner is black, and edging up on fifty; she does not dye her hair, and grey is starting to creep in at the corners. Her face looks old, but it might be the blood and the wound along her face and the stony expression that does that. Her legs aren't entirely gone, but close to it; those wounds are old, but the others--her face, her shoulder, others--aren't.
She's dressed in the remains of a Vera Wang business suit, and there's a nine millimeter pistol in her waistband; there's also something heavy in one pocket that's ruining the shape of the jacket. It doesn't make much difference; God's own Chinese laundry couldn't get this suit clean again. The good news, from a certain, highly-limited point of view, is that not all the blood on it came out of her. The percentage is still going up, though.
She is watching the bar. She's good at watching.
[OOC: Post is open, if anyone's around so late...]