I'm ridin' down your moonlight mile
Who: Troll 1/Seth (tiersdes) and Troll 2/Shiroe (zealouspeter)
When: Saturday, January 29th, 5pm, before Grandmama's Boy shows up.
Where: The streets of Sector 4
Summary: A Crusnik and a Mu pass by each other in the street, and the cat is quite literally out of the bag. Or rather, away from the NV and out of the house.
Warnings: Snarkiness and trolling, but are those really so much warnings as this is just how these two roll?
Today was just one of those days.
Seth couldn't focus on much, felt generally restless, and the day wasn't even halfway over. It was still only early evening; her shift at 24 didn't start for another few hours and it'd be even longer before the sirens, in which case she'd be up and about continuing to map out the Underground, play with the Darkness, and come up with ways to get into Lion's Gate for further recon and information.
So she decided to take a walk around town, bundled up in a long, puffy coat with the hood up---she was still having a hard time getting adjusted to the cold climes of Siren's Port, feeling a bit oppressed by the coat and her layered clothing; her homeland, Byzantium, was a generally warm place, and she was used to being able to move around in light clothing. Perhaps it was an aimless endeavor, but marinating in her apartment would only make the itch harder to scratch. She liked being outdoors, watching people, watching the noisy little humdrum of life they created day after day from her pedestal of almost a century's experience.
And then all that experience got shaken up by some damn kid with a sharp mind and an even sharper mouth.
She doesn't know why she's suddenly thinking of that damn kid. Shiroe. Perhaps it was the restlessness; Seth was terribly curious about him, about his true identity, about what drove him to be such an obnoxious and pompous little thorn in the side. There had to be something behind it. Something.
Anger, to be more precise. It showed in the sharpness of his words.
She could empathize to a tee---but it still didn't stop her from feeling the urge to somehow run across the boy in person and hit him. Fidgeting a bit in her coat as she walks around, letting out a small huff all the while, her NV manages to fall out of her pocket and hit the ground. Sadly, she doesn't notice right away, still too caught up in her thoughts and plans...
When: Saturday, January 29th, 5pm, before Grandmama's Boy shows up.
Where: The streets of Sector 4
Summary: A Crusnik and a Mu pass by each other in the street, and the cat is quite literally out of the bag. Or rather, away from the NV and out of the house.
Warnings: Snarkiness and trolling, but are those really so much warnings as this is just how these two roll?
Today was just one of those days.
Seth couldn't focus on much, felt generally restless, and the day wasn't even halfway over. It was still only early evening; her shift at 24 didn't start for another few hours and it'd be even longer before the sirens, in which case she'd be up and about continuing to map out the Underground, play with the Darkness, and come up with ways to get into Lion's Gate for further recon and information.
So she decided to take a walk around town, bundled up in a long, puffy coat with the hood up---she was still having a hard time getting adjusted to the cold climes of Siren's Port, feeling a bit oppressed by the coat and her layered clothing; her homeland, Byzantium, was a generally warm place, and she was used to being able to move around in light clothing. Perhaps it was an aimless endeavor, but marinating in her apartment would only make the itch harder to scratch. She liked being outdoors, watching people, watching the noisy little humdrum of life they created day after day from her pedestal of almost a century's experience.
And then all that experience got shaken up by some damn kid with a sharp mind and an even sharper mouth.
She doesn't know why she's suddenly thinking of that damn kid. Shiroe. Perhaps it was the restlessness; Seth was terribly curious about him, about his true identity, about what drove him to be such an obnoxious and pompous little thorn in the side. There had to be something behind it. Something.
Anger, to be more precise. It showed in the sharpness of his words.
She could empathize to a tee---but it still didn't stop her from feeling the urge to somehow run across the boy in person and hit him. Fidgeting a bit in her coat as she walks around, letting out a small huff all the while, her NV manages to fall out of her pocket and hit the ground. Sadly, she doesn't notice right away, still too caught up in her thoughts and plans...