Open; May 12-14

[thelastjoy]

A. Caffeine Cold

A full week of a new school probably would have fried her nerves even if she wasn't still adjusting to her curse. The full moon, naturally, hadn't helped one bit. Coffee probably wouldn't help her relax, but she wasn't about to deny herself something sweet when her mood was already so sour.

So of course she trips rounding a street corner and spills the drink all over herself.

"Shit, shit, shit." Girl hops from foot to foot, trying to dislodge the icy mush from her shirt. She starts scooping it off her clothes, promptly flinging it away from her skin and, probably, right onto the poor souls passing by.

B. Into the Wolf's Lion's Den

The East End pack has far nicer digs than she's used to.

She saw some of the place on full moon, but hadn't had time for more than a quick peek around before other matter's took hold. With the night behind her, she's curious to explore; see what she'll be contending with for the foreseeable future. She's examining a broken down wall currently, running her fingers over the ragged edge of splintered stone.

"Ya'll been rough with this place," she says, though her tone is warm rather than accusing. She finds the chaos homey. "Looks like a hurricane came thrashin' through here."

C. Chalk Zone
She's not far from her apartment building, sitting cross legged in a parking lot of some run-down shops. It's well past working hours and the place is deserted. Girl's made herself comfortable, an honest to god boombox blaring loudly by her side, and a bag leaning against her back. She riffles through it every few moments, picking out new pieces of chalk.

She's drawing on the pavement, mushroom clouds and dragons mixed with lines from old rock songs. It's not very good, childish and more a mess than anything artistic. Still, she seems to be enjoying herself and the look she gives when anyone walks by says she has no plans on stopping any time soon.

D. Player's Choice; Leave your own prompt

Comments

[thelastjoy]

"Most fairytale villages wouldn't survive long enough to disagree." She smiles, scooting over to make sure Allison has space. "That's the fun of it; somethin' no ones ever seen. Everyone loves a lil' fantasy."

"Same. Uh, to being American. I'd never left the southwest before comin' here." Travel had never been high on her list of priorities before the turn. "Kinda strange. I think I've ran into just as many people from the States as proper Londoners since I got here."

"What's brought you so far from home? Ya know, if you don't mind a stranger askin'."

[industria]

That comment just makes Allison laugh, a light and pleasant sound as she shifts her legs out from beneath her to shift from a crouching position into a seated one. Chalk dust on her jeans doesn't matter to her and she likes the interesting conversation. "You've got a point!"

"But, ah. I was in California. Someone close to me passed away and I wanted a change. So here I am."

That someone being her mother, but she doesn't want to talk about it. Not yet. London has done her some good, it turns out, as far as finding friends goes and all of that.

[thelastjoy]

"California, really?" It's a strange stroke of luck to not only meet so many from her country but also so close to her area. "I lived right near the border at Nevada. Small world."

Her smile slips at the why of Allison's leaving. "Sorry," she says, sounding a little chastised. "I know how that is, losin' people. It sucks. I get wantin' to walk away from it."

She'd done the same thing, once upon a time, just not to the extent of leaving the country.

[industria]

"Small world, indeed," Allison comments lightly, "I'm finding I'm meeting a lot of Yankees on the other side of the pond. Maybe we all needed a change of scenery at the same time." Fate – or whatever you want to call it – is funny like that, though Allison still isn't sure if she believe in it.

Her smile falters somewhat and she shrugs a shoulder, swallowing. "Thanks. It's been rough. I'm okay." That's pretty much her mantra these days.

Anyway.

"I'm Allison. Hey."

[thelastjoy]

"Lot's goin' on in the States, plenty that people would wanna get away from." If she had any indication Allison was anything but human, Girl could understand why she'd need to take off. She'd assumed most most of the supernaturally inclined Americans she's met here had come for the same reason. The increasing threat in the Southwest made leaving a issue of safety.

Girl nods slightly, unsure what else to say. Part of her wants to tell Allison she understands what she's going through, that rough hardly covers it, but she doesn't know if it would be appreciated. Or even appropriate.

"Most people just call me Girl." She wiggles her fingers in a little wave, sheepish. "Hi, Allison. Nice to meet ya."

[industria]

Tell her about it. California, as it turns out, is overrun with werewolves and were-other things. Allison is, of course, reluctant to speak of such things openly, or even allude to them. There is much that she keeps under wraps, even from those who have discovered that she has secrets of her own, even as a regular human.

Girl. Well, that's interesting. She won't question it either. "Likewise," she returns with a smile. Back to the drawings though... "Are you an artist?"

[thelastjoy]

She's a little surprised Allison doesn't comment on the name choice; everyone seems to have an opinion on her reluctance to use her real name and most of those opinions don't exactly go in Girl's favor. It's nice to not need to explain herself and she visibly relaxes when the conversation drifts to other topics. The smile she shoots Allison is quick and grateful.

"Hardly," she says, laughing at herself. "I like to draw, yeah, but I wouldn't call myself professional or real or nothin', since it's all street stuff. Someday, maybe." If she could convince her uncle that a degree from an arts school would lead to a viable future.

"You got an interest in it?"

[industria]

Hey, Allison's met some people with some strange names here. It's nothing new at this point! Plus, there's always a story behind it. She's curious to hear more if there's a next time.

"I thought I did," she laughs. "I tried watercolors. Wasn't my thing. I tried a lot of hobbies, honestly." It was an embarrassing thing to admit once, that she has boxes and boxes of discarded hobbies. It seems to be something that happens to everyone; not all people have an instantaneous calling.

[thelastjoy]

"Watercolors are pretty tricky," she remarks lightly. "I only ever tried it when I was a kid. Some ruined table clothes later and everyone realized I was makin' more a mess than art."

Girl wouldn't understand how that could be embarrassing. Trying things was important, or so her uncle kept telling her. Allison has more guts than Girl did, to keep doing something new. "Nothin' wrong with that. No one ever figures out what they're good at with the first try, right?" She grins. "What sort of things did try out? Or I guess I should be askin' what ya finally landed on as a good hobby."

[industria]

"Yeah, it's kind of – you don't have as much control over watercolors, which frustrated me." She chuffs a short laugh.

Tentatively, Allison picks up a chalk herself and – in a space with some distance away from Girl's art – she begins to draw a cursive 'A' with curly-q's and floral decorations. "Archery is my main hobby. I did some gymnastics, photography, poetry... The poetry was the worst one, I think. Though sometimes I like writing short haikus."

[thelastjoy]

Girl hums under her breath, looking up at Allison curiously. "Is control your vice, then?" She shrugs. "Paint ain't always your best bet for that, 'lest not nothin' messy like watercolors. Maybe ya ought to try acrylics."

She smiles as Allison joins her, watching the letter form on the concrete. She adds a few flourishes to her own work, feeling she ought to keep up. "Poetry's pretty cool You're probably sellin' yourself short on it. It's all 'bout how you feel, right? Nobody can really call that bad. But honestly, the archery thin' seems even cooler. Never seen anyone shoot anythin' that wasn't a gun before."