[Thread] Take It, Until I'm Overrated
Who: Rikku (
klutziness) and Belphegor (
principe_cieco).
Where: Outside the Warehouse in Abyss.
When: Shortly after this.
Summary: Mmm royal feud.
Rating: R. Duh.
Other: I'll... get back to you on that.
Not even the lingering smell of engine oil from the garage was enough to make Rikku feel any less restless than she had been lately. There was just something about a huge score of people around - watching, always watching - that made her want to curl up with Chavvi and sleep the day away. Of course, now that she had, in essence, two jobs, that was impossible, but a girl could always dream.
It was just that in slumber, she wouldn’t have to worry about the nagging fear that maybe, just maybe, she would be sent back to Home. In an almost twisted way, her garage was her home now; never had she felt so welcome in any other place, even if she was basically the only one there over half the time. Those sorts of things had never meant much to her people anyway, so entering the kynyka had been as easy as if she had just taken an extended vacation. Her soul had been fragmented, scattered in Terra’s streets over the past six or so months, and she couldn’t imagine going back to live with Cid, back to her old life of ambling along and doing what had to be done for everyone else.
Luckily, spars were always a good pick-me-up, as odd as that seemed. Sure, there was a slight possibility she might get her ass kicked, but at least she would be able to get rid of some excess energy. Besides, she wasn’t even positive this was going to be a spar, and so she had brought a back-up activity, just in case.
One of few good things about being Al Bhed was that the blonde girl really didn’t mind the cold after a certain point. Almost like a constant furnace, she just radiated enough heat to keep her warm now that she was descending into Abyss, where the temperature was always just a few degrees colder than in Terra or Elysium. Her thief garb had been waiting for a day like today, and as she slipped on her mini-skirt and tied the bows on her arms, Rikku didn’t think she had ever been happier to feel the ever-familiar material against her skin. How long since she’d had an excuse to wear it and actually do something worthwhile? Too long, obviously.
Scarf flicking with each step, she trekked her way down towards Abyss, swirled eyes peeled for the princeling. It had been too long since she’d been down there. But for some reason, she was glad to be back because, in her opinion, this place wasn’t all that bad; and to her, her opinion was the only one that mattered for the time being. Besides, she wasn’t really in the mood to ask anyone else’s opinion. Vincent was always ready for a brawl, but he was too preoccupied with his own troubles to put up a good fight, and she didn’t think he’d really hit her, anyways. He had always been a gentleman like that. Of course, they’d had their moments, with punching and kicking and flat-out beating each other up, but honestly, she wasn’t sure if she could hit him, either. Not now, at any rate.
So she walked towards the meeting place Bel had indicated, daggers clipped to her hips and a bright yellow messenger back over her shoulder. Operation: Let Off Steam Or Find Relaxation (rather, Operation: LOSOFR, as she called it in her head) was a go.
klutziness) and Belphegor (
principe_cieco).
Where: Outside the Warehouse in Abyss.
When: Shortly after this.
Summary: Mmm royal feud.
Rating: R. Duh.
Other: I'll... get back to you on that.
Not even the lingering smell of engine oil from the garage was enough to make Rikku feel any less restless than she had been lately. There was just something about a huge score of people around - watching, always watching - that made her want to curl up with Chavvi and sleep the day away. Of course, now that she had, in essence, two jobs, that was impossible, but a girl could always dream.
It was just that in slumber, she wouldn’t have to worry about the nagging fear that maybe, just maybe, she would be sent back to Home. In an almost twisted way, her garage was her home now; never had she felt so welcome in any other place, even if she was basically the only one there over half the time. Those sorts of things had never meant much to her people anyway, so entering the kynyka had been as easy as if she had just taken an extended vacation. Her soul had been fragmented, scattered in Terra’s streets over the past six or so months, and she couldn’t imagine going back to live with Cid, back to her old life of ambling along and doing what had to be done for everyone else.
Luckily, spars were always a good pick-me-up, as odd as that seemed. Sure, there was a slight possibility she might get her ass kicked, but at least she would be able to get rid of some excess energy. Besides, she wasn’t even positive this was going to be a spar, and so she had brought a back-up activity, just in case.
One of few good things about being Al Bhed was that the blonde girl really didn’t mind the cold after a certain point. Almost like a constant furnace, she just radiated enough heat to keep her warm now that she was descending into Abyss, where the temperature was always just a few degrees colder than in Terra or Elysium. Her thief garb had been waiting for a day like today, and as she slipped on her mini-skirt and tied the bows on her arms, Rikku didn’t think she had ever been happier to feel the ever-familiar material against her skin. How long since she’d had an excuse to wear it and actually do something worthwhile? Too long, obviously.
Scarf flicking with each step, she trekked her way down towards Abyss, swirled eyes peeled for the princeling. It had been too long since she’d been down there. But for some reason, she was glad to be back because, in her opinion, this place wasn’t all that bad; and to her, her opinion was the only one that mattered for the time being. Besides, she wasn’t really in the mood to ask anyone else’s opinion. Vincent was always ready for a brawl, but he was too preoccupied with his own troubles to put up a good fight, and she didn’t think he’d really hit her, anyways. He had always been a gentleman like that. Of course, they’d had their moments, with punching and kicking and flat-out beating each other up, but honestly, she wasn’t sure if she could hit him, either. Not now, at any rate.
So she walked towards the meeting place Bel had indicated, daggers clipped to her hips and a bright yellow messenger back over her shoulder. Operation: Let Off Steam Or Find Relaxation (rather, Operation: LOSOFR, as she called it in her head) was a go.