Something a little alive
Who: Rita, and... people
Where: On the roof of a random building that hasn't been blown over yet. 8D
Style: Either
Status: Open?
[Set near the very, very end of the Monster!event.]
[There's light at her finger tips. It has the texture of rough concrete, and scraping across the surface leaves a raw feeling that resonates to the tips of her fingers.
There was a breach of sand that scrapes it's way down her throat, and the smell of iron was overwhelming in the darkness. What is on her back is wet and cold and decidedly solid, a cool presence that she could not decipher, but lends itself to a certain sense of conformity. One arm dangles in thin air - she's not quite sure what to make of that, but it is a gentle breeze that sways. Off of the precipice of the building, a single black-clad arm hangs, and she is more than content to leave it hanging.
She breathes in. Out. The darkness surrounds her, calm, gentle, all-encompassing. Breath in. Breath out.
She's sitting now. Her legs, they're dangling as well, caressing the air in gentle circles. It's the edge of the precipice, and she feels it more acutely than ever. Overlooking the darkness below, she balances precariously.
On the sullen rooftop, in a pool of her own blood, she breathes.]
Where: On the roof of a random building that hasn't been blown over yet. 8D
Style: Either
Status: Open?
[Set near the very, very end of the Monster!event.]
[There's light at her finger tips. It has the texture of rough concrete, and scraping across the surface leaves a raw feeling that resonates to the tips of her fingers.
There was a breach of sand that scrapes it's way down her throat, and the smell of iron was overwhelming in the darkness. What is on her back is wet and cold and decidedly solid, a cool presence that she could not decipher, but lends itself to a certain sense of conformity. One arm dangles in thin air - she's not quite sure what to make of that, but it is a gentle breeze that sways. Off of the precipice of the building, a single black-clad arm hangs, and she is more than content to leave it hanging.
She breathes in. Out. The darkness surrounds her, calm, gentle, all-encompassing. Breath in. Breath out.
She's sitting now. Her legs, they're dangling as well, caressing the air in gentle circles. It's the edge of the precipice, and she feels it more acutely than ever. Overlooking the darkness below, she balances precariously.
On the sullen rooftop, in a pool of her own blood, she breathes.]