undergrounds | Open; May 12-14

Entry tags:

Open; May 12-14

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

Threaded | Flat

"It was like this long before I came here." Laura says to the new girl- she'd caught a glimpse of her before, while they'd been in the basement, preparing for the full moon. She recognizes the fond tone in the girl's voice, though, and she takes a few steps toward her.

"I think the pack is sometimes a bit worse than a hurricane, wouldn't you think so?"

"What you doin'?"

The Artful Dodger really just seems to appear from nowhere sometimes. Honestly, he has just been wandering around, killing time before going back to the den. Fagin didn't expect him until right late, so that meant wandering time. Coming here was just... random. He let his legs walk, and let his mind drift off. He looks around at all the colours, eventually kneeling down.

"We got another artist in the area?"

At some point someone kicks a pebble in Girl's direction, sending it bouncing against the pavement until it lightly whacks her in the leg.

Surprise, it turns out to be Ghoul. He's standing nearby with his hands in his pockets, looking pretty ordinary save for a series of still-healing scratches and shallow gouges on his face. He hadn't made it to the den in time during the night of the full moon, and had obviously gotten in to something. But it's fine. Nothing permanently disfiguring, and it doesn't seem to be currently bothering him.

He waits until her music is a little quieter before he nods vaguely at her art spread. "Misspelled that one." No, she didn't.

Party grins at her words, slouching against the wall nearby. "Ain't no hurricane 'round here but me, kid."

He pushes away from the crumbling wall and slinks towards her, looking her up and down like he's trying to figure her out.

"What're you in for? What do they got on you?" And then he laughs at his own prison joke, because he's used to no one else really bothering to laugh, and sticks out a hand smudged with dirt. "I'm Party."

"Hey, that's pretty cool."

Allison's a friendly girl, smiles and dimples. She's just gotten used to the fact that strange things happen when she strikes up conversation with strangers but – maybe that's just her calling. That this is the new nature of being an Argent and she'll just have to deal with it. Or enjoy it, really.

She shoulders her small leather backpack and tilts her head to the side, watching the girl for a moment. "Dragons. That's nice."

Threaded | Flat

B

Chalk Zone

c~~

B

c.