[Closed]
Who: Priscilla and... Isley.
When: ...IDK SOMETIME.
Where: The Ruins!
Format: Action! [poses]
What: A meeting in the mist, in the wake of some fairly heavy Stuff.
Warnings: None that I know of!
[Somewhere between the third and fifth day, she'd stopped keeping track of the days - of course she could figure it out if she wanted, it couldn't have been more than a week, or maybe a week and a half... but, still, it's never been difficult to lose track of things inside the mist. And maybe it is the mist that playing games with her head, twisting up her memories, and her thoughts... or maybe it's just the aftershocks of the metaphorical earthquake she's just come out the other end of. But either way, for the moment, she prefers the quiet and the company of monsters to the buzzing of the city, and the company of humans.]
[So she sits, legs crossed, framed by trees and broken stone, lost in her own thoughts, as the sun rises, and sinks again, and maybe she wouldn't come out of them at all, if she didn't feel him coming near - a presence as familiar as the shape of her hand, and the feel of her breath. Familiar enough to draw her out, and make her lift her head when she senses his arrival.]
When: ...IDK SOMETIME.
Where: The Ruins!
Format: Action! [poses]
What: A meeting in the mist, in the wake of some fairly heavy Stuff.
Warnings: None that I know of!
[Somewhere between the third and fifth day, she'd stopped keeping track of the days - of course she could figure it out if she wanted, it couldn't have been more than a week, or maybe a week and a half... but, still, it's never been difficult to lose track of things inside the mist. And maybe it is the mist that playing games with her head, twisting up her memories, and her thoughts... or maybe it's just the aftershocks of the metaphorical earthquake she's just come out the other end of. But either way, for the moment, she prefers the quiet and the company of monsters to the buzzing of the city, and the company of humans.]
[So she sits, legs crossed, framed by trees and broken stone, lost in her own thoughts, as the sun rises, and sinks again, and maybe she wouldn't come out of them at all, if she didn't feel him coming near - a presence as familiar as the shape of her hand, and the feel of her breath. Familiar enough to draw her out, and make her lift her head when she senses his arrival.]