Storybook Thirteen; [action]
[The town is a lot more desolate with people gone for the draft. All in all, she's a bit agitated at the serious air that had settled upon Luceti; non-combatants had gone along with completely capable people - what if she were next? The thought made her blood run cold.
Jennifer was never a fighter. When push comes to shove, she is resourceful enough to make the most of her tools, but she could hardly fend off the creatures in that wretched airship; she wouldn't last a moment on the battlefield. That's just not something women do in her time.
But that wouldn't matter, if they called on her next time.
It is this train of thought that leads her to wandering the item shop, picking up various odds and ends before setting them back down with a frown. This place can make you forget how terrible it can be sometimes. Her fingers trail across the counter before bumping into the taped handle of...something. Her hand twitches at the contact and she grasps at it, managing to pull out a tennis racket from beneath the other items. The grip was comfortable, familiar, as if she had something like this before. But that's just strange; she can't recall ever even learning to play tennis.
...She had been hoping for the small pistol she had managed to find before those Spooky Things had whisked her back off what seemed to be the orphanage where this entire sordid affair began. But this racket was...comfortable, somehow. Nevertheless, she frowns as she turns to leave, walking out of the shop with a small part of her wondering just what on earth she would do with the thing.
Then again, another part of her says, what would she have done with an actual weapon?]
((OOC: Feel free to tag in whenever, but Bowser's thread will chronologically be last. Busy week, so tags will be slow; this goes for Rena's post too. Sorry! I'll get on them as fast as I can.))
Jennifer was never a fighter. When push comes to shove, she is resourceful enough to make the most of her tools, but she could hardly fend off the creatures in that wretched airship; she wouldn't last a moment on the battlefield. That's just not something women do in her time.
But that wouldn't matter, if they called on her next time.
It is this train of thought that leads her to wandering the item shop, picking up various odds and ends before setting them back down with a frown. This place can make you forget how terrible it can be sometimes. Her fingers trail across the counter before bumping into the taped handle of...something. Her hand twitches at the contact and she grasps at it, managing to pull out a tennis racket from beneath the other items. The grip was comfortable, familiar, as if she had something like this before. But that's just strange; she can't recall ever even learning to play tennis.
...She had been hoping for the small pistol she had managed to find before those Spooky Things had whisked her back off what seemed to be the orphanage where this entire sordid affair began. But this racket was...comfortable, somehow. Nevertheless, she frowns as she turns to leave, walking out of the shop with a small part of her wondering just what on earth she would do with the thing.
Then again, another part of her says, what would she have done with an actual weapon?]
((OOC: Feel free to tag in whenever, but Bowser's thread will chronologically be last. Busy week, so tags will be slow; this goes for Rena's post too. Sorry! I'll get on them as fast as I can.))