[Closed... unless you want Priscilla to dismember you in a fit of pique.]
Who: Priscilla (honorablesecond) and Senji (clawofsin)
When: JUNE 29. EVENING. YEAH!
Where: The street ---> HQ
Format: Prose, Present Tense.
What: Senji's ridiculous and is getting himself killed fighting too many zombies using his own blood. Priscilla goes to get him because if she doesn't, she's going to accidentally level the damn city in her worry.
Warnings: I SUSPECT ANGST WILL OCCUR. Also, Power Pixie temper tantrum.
When they first met, Priscilla had spent a great deal of time wanting to ring Senji's neck.
She can remember that now, sort of. It's hazy, the way things are when they happened a long time ago and aren't important anymore: oh, she used to hate him, didn't she, in those long months of trudging through the ruins with him. Listening to his complaints and that one time he initiated some kind of battle with her without actually asking her first. All those things that were infuriating before they became predictable, and then kind of funny, and then kind of ridiculous, and then kind of endearing. Before she knew the root of them. Before she knew him the way no one else did, and before he could predict her reactions, her next move.
It's hard to remember why she found it so hard to trust him once, or why it changed - why he became the person she trusted most even though he really hadn't done anything differently. It just happened... and she never thought about it very much.
It's moments like this when she thinks about it again.
Priscilla doesn't curse. She never curses. But if she did, she'd be swearing under her breath right now. Instead, she feels the yoki coursing through her, singing the air, and she feels the cobblestone ground grind down to pebbles under her feet, and she watches the streets. There are those damn corpses again, always in her way, and she cuts them to ribbons as she moves past them. Easier to destroy them than avoid them. And she isn't crying anymore, now - she's too focused to cry, but even so the instant she sees him (crimson blade out, pale in the mist and moonlight, surrounded by active hostiles and dismembered corpses as he often is when she sees him outdoors), her eyes sting and burn with tears.
It takes less than the space of a breath for the remaining creatures to fall - coming apart in a rain of blood, more disparate chunks of meat now than bodies. It's only then that she stops, the golden light of her eyes flooding the streets.
That's when she says, "You... idiot."
And that's when she starts crying.
When: JUNE 29. EVENING. YEAH!
Where: The street ---> HQ
Format: Prose, Present Tense.
What: Senji's ridiculous and is getting himself killed fighting too many zombies using his own blood. Priscilla goes to get him because if she doesn't, she's going to accidentally level the damn city in her worry.
Warnings: I SUSPECT ANGST WILL OCCUR. Also, Power Pixie temper tantrum.
When they first met, Priscilla had spent a great deal of time wanting to ring Senji's neck.
She can remember that now, sort of. It's hazy, the way things are when they happened a long time ago and aren't important anymore: oh, she used to hate him, didn't she, in those long months of trudging through the ruins with him. Listening to his complaints and that one time he initiated some kind of battle with her without actually asking her first. All those things that were infuriating before they became predictable, and then kind of funny, and then kind of ridiculous, and then kind of endearing. Before she knew the root of them. Before she knew him the way no one else did, and before he could predict her reactions, her next move.
It's hard to remember why she found it so hard to trust him once, or why it changed - why he became the person she trusted most even though he really hadn't done anything differently. It just happened... and she never thought about it very much.
It's moments like this when she thinks about it again.
Priscilla doesn't curse. She never curses. But if she did, she'd be swearing under her breath right now. Instead, she feels the yoki coursing through her, singing the air, and she feels the cobblestone ground grind down to pebbles under her feet, and she watches the streets. There are those damn corpses again, always in her way, and she cuts them to ribbons as she moves past them. Easier to destroy them than avoid them. And she isn't crying anymore, now - she's too focused to cry, but even so the instant she sees him (crimson blade out, pale in the mist and moonlight, surrounded by active hostiles and dismembered corpses as he often is when she sees him outdoors), her eyes sting and burn with tears.
It takes less than the space of a breath for the remaining creatures to fall - coming apart in a rain of blood, more disparate chunks of meat now than bodies. It's only then that she stops, the golden light of her eyes flooding the streets.
That's when she says, "You... idiot."
And that's when she starts crying.