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May 29, 2015 23:24:35 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on May 29, 2015 23:24:35 GMT -5
so deep she was in magician claimed streets, and under cover of dark. were she caught, surely no good would come of it.
she ducks from view of search sphere, invisible normally to naked eye. they appear a glowing balls of light so bright she never knew why no one else saw them. she moved once they were clear of view to continue her way to the weapons shop.
the door was locked to no surprise, but easy was it to pick. her challenge lie in evading intricate wards laced throughout the inside like laser tripwires. she had done well at first until a wrong step took her tumbling down a small down-step she hadn't anticipated.
@ruba |
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May 31, 2015 17:41:25 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on May 31, 2015 17:41:25 GMT -5
the moon hangs ripely in the sky, as if having sucked the air around it dry and colourless, a dingy dark that looks wrung out and uneasy. she wakes with the hair on the back of her neck prickling and keen sense of something wrong - of being violated, of intrusion.
she stands drowsily as does rahab, irate; drapes a robe over her shoulders and walks briskly to her shop. the door swings slightly, and she shoves it open with a crack as she passes through. pausing abruptly at the head of the steps, she glances down at the girl curled at their bottom - as far as aster can tell, she hasn't gotten her hands on anything.
her hound snarls.
@merrill |
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Jun 1, 2015 0:11:46 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 1, 2015 0:11:46 GMT -5
pain. curled up on the floor, it pulsed in her head, throbbed in her back. her palms burned from failed attempts to catch herself.
get up. the magician was bound to come. get up. get up or you'll be found. but she couldn't. and even if she did now, it was too late. a hound snarled.
"good evening." she stares up from the ground, forced smile on her lips. "you, uh, forgot to sign for your delivery."
@ruba |
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Jun 1, 2015 21:20:05 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 1, 2015 21:20:05 GMT -5
everything is still, but the writhing girl on the floor. ruba stands, feels a faint breeze against her bare skin from the breeze blowing in.
with a flick her wrist the stones beneath merrill heat up like coal - dance, peasant. "is that how you talk me?" her voice is unusually shrill. there's something sardonic in her tone, but there is also something irritable and bitter. something angry and lashing. rahab picks up on this and tenses, ears flat against her skull.
"stand up and look at me, at least." she quirks a brow. there isn't much choice to be had.
ruba could call enforcement, but so could she handle this herself. how, she's yet to decide.
@merrill |
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Jun 2, 2015 23:03:53 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 2, 2015 23:03:53 GMT -5
she expected not to be believed. the scope of her presence was beyond anything believably innocent. and it was made clear, instantaneously, that she didn’t trust a word of it.
“ow, ow, ow!” screeches the blue haired girl, springing to her feet. “what the hell?! some host you are!” it hits her how presumptuous she sounds, the gravity of her position. “um, i mean. my apologies madam magician. i didn’t mean to intrude to late in the evening. can you sign for this morning’s package?”
@ruba |
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Jun 3, 2015 11:04:00 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 3, 2015 11:04:00 GMT -5
remarkably, the girl has the audacity to act like she has a right to be here, like she isn't intruding. ruba eyes her, feeling a faint spark of recognition.
"morning?" she repeats, running a hand through her tangled hair. ruba didn't catch a look at the time, but it's probably a few hours before sunrise, an ungodly hour, but she supposes you could call it morning. "i wasn't expecting any deliveries." the stones tremble a little, giving off steam, and ruba waves her hand to cool them, settle them.
"i'm not sure if this is your usual protocol, but you're trespassing. stealing. damaging my property." she ticks the crimes off on her fingers.
@merrill |
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Jun 5, 2015 13:02:42 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 5, 2015 13:02:42 GMT -5
the breath of her encroaching doom ghosts down her spine. she suppresses any signs oh fear, poker face.
"i haven't stolen or damaged anything, actually." she corrects the magician. "the door wasn't locked. it's not trespassing either." a lie, falling easy from her lips. "i haven't done anything wrong."
@ruba |
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