[open.]
Who: Namine (dollchains), Byakuya Kuchiki (xnoble_reasonx) OPEN
When: Early afternoon
Where: Just outside the public market, nearer the Door than the carnival
Format: Paragraph, past tense
What: Namine attempts to doodle people for cash.
Warnings: None so far, but subject to change.
---
No money in her pockets, and no food in her stomach, either.
Something had to change, and fast. She'd received the guide on Anatole and its workings from a friendly sort of person, and though it said something about the 'Scorched' (well, she assumed that meant her, in this case) not being able to die, what about starvation?
... It hadn't said anything about starvation.
Her one stroke of luck was, one day, wandering through town, having found a sketchbook and a few crayon stubs poking out of what seemed to be a garbage bin.
Now, Namine was not exactly the kind of girl who liked rummaging through trash. However, her fingers were itching to create -- and who could blame them? That was what she did. She drew. Her one job, now that she'd been torn from her responsibilities.
The girl paused for a moment, then settled on an overturned terracotta pot, feet folding beneath her. She only had one practical ability, barring memory manipulation (which couldn't get you any munny anyway), and using that ability was probably the best thing she could do right now. Might as well do something, even if it didn't get you any munny -- it was better than remembering exactly how hungry she was getting.
When: Early afternoon
Where: Just outside the public market, nearer the Door than the carnival
Format: Paragraph, past tense
What: Namine attempts to doodle people for cash.
Warnings: None so far, but subject to change.
---
No money in her pockets, and no food in her stomach, either.
Something had to change, and fast. She'd received the guide on Anatole and its workings from a friendly sort of person, and though it said something about the 'Scorched' (well, she assumed that meant her, in this case) not being able to die, what about starvation?
... It hadn't said anything about starvation.
Her one stroke of luck was, one day, wandering through town, having found a sketchbook and a few crayon stubs poking out of what seemed to be a garbage bin.
Now, Namine was not exactly the kind of girl who liked rummaging through trash. However, her fingers were itching to create -- and who could blame them? That was what she did. She drew. Her one job, now that she'd been torn from her responsibilities.
The girl paused for a moment, then settled on an overturned terracotta pot, feet folding beneath her. She only had one practical ability, barring memory manipulation (which couldn't get you any munny anyway), and using that ability was probably the best thing she could do right now. Might as well do something, even if it didn't get you any munny -- it was better than remembering exactly how hungry she was getting.