Do I think it's time for an open log? Hell yes I do
Okaaaay, mods can hit me if they want, but God, Damn and HELL we need some activity in this hizzouse. (And school/exams officially finished for me on Wednesday and I am BOOORED.)
Who: Any-fucking-body.
Where: Oshima Park.
When: Afternoon/Evening, today.
What: Kasumi burning her cashmire cardigan after getting caught in the middle of a barfight between two drunks. And whatever may transpire from someone finding her.
Warnings: Uh... everything? Knowing this place? XD
(Open log, *actions* or prose are cool. Open for as long as we can keep it going.)
Goddamnit! Kasumi looked at the cloth in her hands, covered in blood. (This would not look good.) Her cardigan... caught in a fistfight. (Hmph. Drunkards and their flaws.) She took a seat by the lake, sighing heavily and staring at the blood soaked cashmire. There was no excuse she could give at home for this.
She folded the fabric as carefully as possible, wary of the few people staring at her (her hand raised and her fingers lightly brushed against tender purpling skin from misplaced fists of drunken men), and hid the most of the blood. Kasumi shook off the stupor that lingered in her mind like the pain lingered on her jaw, fishing a lighter out of her purse. (It was the only way.)
Only grateful the camisole and jeans weren't harmed, she stood up. A clearing, she'd noticed, on the way to the exit, if one cared to navigate enough trees to get there. (She did. Right now, anyway.)
A moment and a flash of flame later and the delicate fabric gave way to folds of smoke, dropped promptly onto clay soils. Kasumi coughed, fanning the smoke from her face as she stepped from the heat. (At least nothing grew on clay soils, nothing to burn. But certainly more smoke than she anticipated- was the foliage thick enough to block it?)
Who: Any-fucking-body.
Where: Oshima Park.
When: Afternoon/Evening, today.
What: Kasumi burning her cashmire cardigan after getting caught in the middle of a barfight between two drunks. And whatever may transpire from someone finding her.
Warnings: Uh... everything? Knowing this place? XD
(Open log, *actions* or prose are cool. Open for as long as we can keep it going.)
Goddamnit! Kasumi looked at the cloth in her hands, covered in blood. (This would not look good.) Her cardigan... caught in a fistfight. (Hmph. Drunkards and their flaws.) She took a seat by the lake, sighing heavily and staring at the blood soaked cashmire. There was no excuse she could give at home for this.
She folded the fabric as carefully as possible, wary of the few people staring at her (her hand raised and her fingers lightly brushed against tender purpling skin from misplaced fists of drunken men), and hid the most of the blood. Kasumi shook off the stupor that lingered in her mind like the pain lingered on her jaw, fishing a lighter out of her purse. (It was the only way.)
Only grateful the camisole and jeans weren't harmed, she stood up. A clearing, she'd noticed, on the way to the exit, if one cared to navigate enough trees to get there. (She did. Right now, anyway.)
A moment and a flash of flame later and the delicate fabric gave way to folds of smoke, dropped promptly onto clay soils. Kasumi coughed, fanning the smoke from her face as she stepped from the heat. (At least nothing grew on clay soils, nothing to burn. But certainly more smoke than she anticipated- was the foliage thick enough to block it?)