nancy. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stauncherhearted) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2015-07-18 10:42 pm
stauncherhearted) wrote in undergrounds2015-07-18 10:42 pm
Entry tags:
I feel it in the air
[A July catch-all! Pick an option and say hello, or start something more specific in the comments. Hit me up on plurk if you want a specific starter!]
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Option One
Nancy had gotten her start picking pockets as just a child. It was so easy, when you were so close to the ground, to look in purses, to bump into people and distract them while your friend grabbed their wallet or their iPod. Picking pockets wasn't hard at all, if you knew what you were doing.
Shoplifting had come next, as it often did for teenage girls looking for a quick high. It wasn't that for Nancy, unfortunately. It was a way to make money, to get what she wanted. Slide an important object into her purse and no one was any smarter. Wrap a scarf around her neck and pretend she'd been wearing it when she walked in. It was cake.
And okay, yes, it was a great way to get a quick high. This was what brought Nancy to Spittalfields market. It was a busy afternoon, the stalls were bustling, and no one was paying any sort of attention to what a petite girl like her was doing. So a few pieces of jewelry here, a few wallets there- tourists were idiots. They saw the 'Beware Pickpockets' signs and instantly checked where they kept their valuables. Easy marks.
Besides, she had to make up for the first week or so of the month when she'd been holed up in her flat, escaping the Hunt.
Option Two
The Thames was beautiful at night. The lights reflected off the surface, you couldn't tell how dirty it was, either. You could walk along, cross over bridges, watch people stumble home from clubs. There was a lot of time to think, too.
Of course, down by the water anywhere was where you could find her sort. A pair of fish-nets and high-heels, tiny dress. She hadn't had much luck in pubs earlier that evening, so now it was time to wait till bar close, when men started stumbling home, desperate for a woman. That, also happened to be when many vampires chose to feed. And that's where she made the real money.
Option Three
"I'm tired of having these bloody conversations!" Through grit teeth, a petite ginger paced quickly in front of the tube station. "No- no, you stop it.- Stop talking, and let me explain you devil!" On the other end of the line, a man prattled about, his condescending tone loud. If Nancy had been paying attention to him, he assumed so, unaware that, mid-way through his diatribe, she was rolling her eyes.
Finally, she'd had enough. "Listen here; I'm about to get on the tube. I can't talk. I'll come over before work tonight, talk with him- yes, yes, you'll have it, I got it all sorted, you'll have your potions!" Nancy nearly tosses the phone into her purse, violently pressing on her touch-screen to end the call.
"Bloody bastard."
Option Four
Wild card. Make your own, drop me a line, whatever. A few private starters in the comments!
-
Option One
Nancy had gotten her start picking pockets as just a child. It was so easy, when you were so close to the ground, to look in purses, to bump into people and distract them while your friend grabbed their wallet or their iPod. Picking pockets wasn't hard at all, if you knew what you were doing.
Shoplifting had come next, as it often did for teenage girls looking for a quick high. It wasn't that for Nancy, unfortunately. It was a way to make money, to get what she wanted. Slide an important object into her purse and no one was any smarter. Wrap a scarf around her neck and pretend she'd been wearing it when she walked in. It was cake.
And okay, yes, it was a great way to get a quick high. This was what brought Nancy to Spittalfields market. It was a busy afternoon, the stalls were bustling, and no one was paying any sort of attention to what a petite girl like her was doing. So a few pieces of jewelry here, a few wallets there- tourists were idiots. They saw the 'Beware Pickpockets' signs and instantly checked where they kept their valuables. Easy marks.
Besides, she had to make up for the first week or so of the month when she'd been holed up in her flat, escaping the Hunt.
Option Two
The Thames was beautiful at night. The lights reflected off the surface, you couldn't tell how dirty it was, either. You could walk along, cross over bridges, watch people stumble home from clubs. There was a lot of time to think, too.
Of course, down by the water anywhere was where you could find her sort. A pair of fish-nets and high-heels, tiny dress. She hadn't had much luck in pubs earlier that evening, so now it was time to wait till bar close, when men started stumbling home, desperate for a woman. That, also happened to be when many vampires chose to feed. And that's where she made the real money.
Option Three
"I'm tired of having these bloody conversations!" Through grit teeth, a petite ginger paced quickly in front of the tube station. "No- no, you stop it.- Stop talking, and let me explain you devil!" On the other end of the line, a man prattled about, his condescending tone loud. If Nancy had been paying attention to him, he assumed so, unaware that, mid-way through his diatribe, she was rolling her eyes.
Finally, she'd had enough. "Listen here; I'm about to get on the tube. I can't talk. I'll come over before work tonight, talk with him- yes, yes, you'll have it, I got it all sorted, you'll have your potions!" Nancy nearly tosses the phone into her purse, violently pressing on her touch-screen to end the call.
"Bloody bastard."
Option Four
Wild card. Make your own, drop me a line, whatever. A few private starters in the comments!
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