one, two, do the kung-fu!
first ORPG post ever!! i know it doesn't mean a whole lot but i'm proud anyway and i want to document this day. or night, rather.
The slender cord was entwined lazily in her fingers. Sighing, Cecilia swung the familiar yellow-orange stone back and forth slowly, studying it. Amber. What a beautiful substance. So exotic, so mysterious. An Old-World material. A thing of the past. Her past? She couldn’t remember. She ran a finger over the insect near the edge, caught in the struggle to escape. Poor ant. Sometimes she felt exactly the same way.
Like now.
She grimaced, letting her hand fall away. Trapped. That was how she was feeling, wasn’t it? Trapped. Boxed in. Cornered. Caged. Drowning in orange goo, waiting for...
No. This was an unfair comparison. It wasn’t the same at all. She was merely making a decision, not being swallowed up by fate. She was getting carried away, just what she’d been warned never to do. Ugh. One would think that a life in the streets would have taken care of this tendency toward romanticism and melodrama, but apparently not. Jesus Hallmark Christ. She had to fix this problem, and soon, if she wanted to become a true ninja. Maybe she should find a new name. Something less…pretty. Something like…uh…she couldn’t think of anything. Whatever.
Cecilia stood up from the wall she’d been sitting against, throwing the pendant over her head and tucking it behind her maroon T-shirt. She buttoned up her jacket, stuck her hands in its front pockets, and headed east.
She tried to reestablish the resolution she had had earlier that day. This was something that just had to be done. She couldn’t just stay on the fringes forever, always following someone’s lead or taking the easiest assignments with the excuse of not being finished with training. She had to break free and make her own mark. She needed to start building a reputation. She needed recognition. She needed respect. She needed rewards. She did NOT need doubts and insecurities to get in the way. The time for change was now. No backing out, no settling for small tasks, no running for help…
Cecilia arrived at The Black Knight wondering if she was too early. She looked around. Impossible to tell between the streetlights, smog, and tall buildings whether the sky even existed, let alone what was in it. She should really start wearing a watch. As she approached the door, however, she found that the night club was indeed open. She hesitated before opening the door. Would any other Shadowrunners be there yet? She hoped not. Even though she was twenty, she had joined so recently…they must all think of her as a just a kid. She didn’t want them looking down at her - Cecilia the novice, the amateur, the…
Enough! She opened the door roughly and stormed in, then quickly tried to regain her composure as she headed toward a certain booth on the east end of the building, trying to be as casual as possible without looking at anyone. Grr. This not-being-melodramatic thing definitely wasn’t working. There was only one person at the table. Good. Cecilia thought that if Mr. Johnson had been busy, she would have lost her resolve entirely. She timidly slid into the bench across from him. Then she raised her head sharply. The words came out more quickly (and less eloquently) than she’d hoped.
“I want a real Run, now. Not that baby stuff I’ve been doing; a tough one. And I want to do it alone.”
is that a good first impression, or what? i think so anyway. even though it's not technically a first impression. whatever.
The slender cord was entwined lazily in her fingers. Sighing, Cecilia swung the familiar yellow-orange stone back and forth slowly, studying it. Amber. What a beautiful substance. So exotic, so mysterious. An Old-World material. A thing of the past. Her past? She couldn’t remember. She ran a finger over the insect near the edge, caught in the struggle to escape. Poor ant. Sometimes she felt exactly the same way.
Like now.
She grimaced, letting her hand fall away. Trapped. That was how she was feeling, wasn’t it? Trapped. Boxed in. Cornered. Caged. Drowning in orange goo, waiting for...
No. This was an unfair comparison. It wasn’t the same at all. She was merely making a decision, not being swallowed up by fate. She was getting carried away, just what she’d been warned never to do. Ugh. One would think that a life in the streets would have taken care of this tendency toward romanticism and melodrama, but apparently not. Jesus Hallmark Christ. She had to fix this problem, and soon, if she wanted to become a true ninja. Maybe she should find a new name. Something less…pretty. Something like…uh…she couldn’t think of anything. Whatever.
Cecilia stood up from the wall she’d been sitting against, throwing the pendant over her head and tucking it behind her maroon T-shirt. She buttoned up her jacket, stuck her hands in its front pockets, and headed east.
She tried to reestablish the resolution she had had earlier that day. This was something that just had to be done. She couldn’t just stay on the fringes forever, always following someone’s lead or taking the easiest assignments with the excuse of not being finished with training. She had to break free and make her own mark. She needed to start building a reputation. She needed recognition. She needed respect. She needed rewards. She did NOT need doubts and insecurities to get in the way. The time for change was now. No backing out, no settling for small tasks, no running for help…
Cecilia arrived at The Black Knight wondering if she was too early. She looked around. Impossible to tell between the streetlights, smog, and tall buildings whether the sky even existed, let alone what was in it. She should really start wearing a watch. As she approached the door, however, she found that the night club was indeed open. She hesitated before opening the door. Would any other Shadowrunners be there yet? She hoped not. Even though she was twenty, she had joined so recently…they must all think of her as a just a kid. She didn’t want them looking down at her - Cecilia the novice, the amateur, the…
Enough! She opened the door roughly and stormed in, then quickly tried to regain her composure as she headed toward a certain booth on the east end of the building, trying to be as casual as possible without looking at anyone. Grr. This not-being-melodramatic thing definitely wasn’t working. There was only one person at the table. Good. Cecilia thought that if Mr. Johnson had been busy, she would have lost her resolve entirely. She timidly slid into the bench across from him. Then she raised her head sharply. The words came out more quickly (and less eloquently) than she’d hoped.
“I want a real Run, now. Not that baby stuff I’ve been doing; a tough one. And I want to do it alone.”
is that a good first impression, or what? i think so anyway. even though it's not technically a first impression. whatever.