[Complete]
Who: Rikku (calamitousness) and anyone.
When: Saturday evening-ish.
Where: In front of the clock tower and then… elsewhere.
Rating: TBA.
Warnings: Blood, maybe one or two dragons, and a Jenova-fied!Rikku. |D
Summary: Rikku is FINALLY back after being gone for like… ever. Oh, and she is very unhappy about being left alone outside in the nippy weather with all the dragons and such. Someone should go find her. ♥
The cold hardly registered in her mind, but her body sure felt it. Lips and fingernails tinted blue, skin ghostly white, Rikku ambled towards the clock tower, as far away from Hojo’s home as she could get. It was all an act; the cuts, the bruises, the blood. Most of it wasn’t even her blood - who or what it had come from was lost to her. She had made sure that the scent of the crimson liquid obscured any change in her own scent; she had to figure out how to mask the new cells mixed with her own. It shouldn’t be too hard.
She was to behave and look as if nothing had happened. She was to say she didn’t remember anything. Of course, she wouldn’t totally abide by his rules; that would have put her under his control completely. No, she would use her own rules, ones that would make it more interesting for her. The next several weeks of her life would be one wonderfully performed play. She thought the journal entry had been a nice touch, too.
For the moment, her carnal hunger had been sated. She no longer felt that aching need. Even the voice was silent; it was as if she was herself again. The girl walked across the open square in front of the tower, daggers clipped loosely to her sides. She had been given back her usual attire, weapons and scarf included. Her clothes were slightly torn and ragged, but at least she didn’t look a total mess. She was to throw suspicion from where it rightly belonged.
She paused, looking up at the huge, white face of the clock, and tilted her head to the side. What time was it? She couldn’t honestly say that she cared. Time didn’t seem to matter anymore. The thief turned away from it, no longer interested. It seemed as if her short attention span hadn’t changed in the least. Of course, as she walked she failed to spot the change in the level of the pavement, and tripped, allowing a small cry to fall from her lips to add to the effect. Falling stomach-down to the ground, she laid with her cheek pressed to the cool concrete, her body rising and falling just the slightest bit as she breathed slowly, feigning weakness. She'd lost some weight during the past few days; her shoulder blades were clearly visible through her skin, and were just another way to confirm the story she had concocted. Swirled eyes closed to wait.
An amazingly convincing act.
When: Saturday evening-ish.
Where: In front of the clock tower and then… elsewhere.
Rating: TBA.
Warnings: Blood, maybe one or two dragons, and a Jenova-fied!Rikku. |D
Summary: Rikku is FINALLY back after being gone for like… ever. Oh, and she is very unhappy about being left alone outside in the nippy weather with all the dragons and such. Someone should go find her. ♥
The cold hardly registered in her mind, but her body sure felt it. Lips and fingernails tinted blue, skin ghostly white, Rikku ambled towards the clock tower, as far away from Hojo’s home as she could get. It was all an act; the cuts, the bruises, the blood. Most of it wasn’t even her blood - who or what it had come from was lost to her. She had made sure that the scent of the crimson liquid obscured any change in her own scent; she had to figure out how to mask the new cells mixed with her own. It shouldn’t be too hard.
She was to behave and look as if nothing had happened. She was to say she didn’t remember anything. Of course, she wouldn’t totally abide by his rules; that would have put her under his control completely. No, she would use her own rules, ones that would make it more interesting for her. The next several weeks of her life would be one wonderfully performed play. She thought the journal entry had been a nice touch, too.
For the moment, her carnal hunger had been sated. She no longer felt that aching need. Even the voice was silent; it was as if she was herself again. The girl walked across the open square in front of the tower, daggers clipped loosely to her sides. She had been given back her usual attire, weapons and scarf included. Her clothes were slightly torn and ragged, but at least she didn’t look a total mess. She was to throw suspicion from where it rightly belonged.
She paused, looking up at the huge, white face of the clock, and tilted her head to the side. What time was it? She couldn’t honestly say that she cared. Time didn’t seem to matter anymore. The thief turned away from it, no longer interested. It seemed as if her short attention span hadn’t changed in the least. Of course, as she walked she failed to spot the change in the level of the pavement, and tripped, allowing a small cry to fall from her lips to add to the effect. Falling stomach-down to the ground, she laid with her cheek pressed to the cool concrete, her body rising and falling just the slightest bit as she breathed slowly, feigning weakness. She'd lost some weight during the past few days; her shoulder blades were clearly visible through her skin, and were just another way to confirm the story she had concocted. Swirled eyes closed to wait.
An amazingly convincing act.