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chroimilis.livejournal.com) wrote in
tvk2011-12-04 01:18 am
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[ACTION]☘ it’s a world of our past where the legend still lasts
[ A: While this maiden has been here all day, she hasn't thought to venture out until the sun had set. There's so much she's learned already. For example, with how short the days were and the chill in the air - that meant winter was coming in quick. With the strange salt in the breeze she was able to determine that she was on an island of some sort near an ocean. She might stand out when it comes to the other civilians as she wore sheets pulled from the hotel bed as a makeshift cloak, tightening it closer in between her petite fists.
Then it happens. Midnight strikes and the few individuals who littered the streets with brightly colored bags of green and red in their hands appear in strange coffins, leaving her to be the only one visible in her path. With the snowfall, her vision is obscured slightly.. but not enough to veil the large figure approaching rapidly. A normal woman might be frightened enough to flee, but this one in particular is Irish. Kicking up snow into it's face, she feints to the side in an attempt to run around it. Naturally, she gets knocked over by the Visceral Maya, sliding into a thicker bank of snow along the street. A shame she doesn't have a phone to call for help or anything of the sort.
B: After she's been rescued byinsert amount of threads of people who choose to save her here, Gráinne will be entering whatever bar happens to be open past midnight with soaking wet sheets in her hand. Her own attire is fairly damp, but she doesn't seem to be concerned with it. ]
Then it happens. Midnight strikes and the few individuals who littered the streets with brightly colored bags of green and red in their hands appear in strange coffins, leaving her to be the only one visible in her path. With the snowfall, her vision is obscured slightly.. but not enough to veil the large figure approaching rapidly. A normal woman might be frightened enough to flee, but this one in particular is Irish. Kicking up snow into it's face, she feints to the side in an attempt to run around it. Naturally, she gets knocked over by the Visceral Maya, sliding into a thicker bank of snow along the street. A shame she doesn't have a phone to call for help or anything of the sort.
B: After she's been rescued by
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Good luck.
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Could I have another while I try to sort this mess out?
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[One more glass for her.]
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So what sort of thing do you do for fun in this place?
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... if you would like to show me though, I wouldn't object.
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I think I should probably take my leave soon. I wouldn't want this place to run low. Ah... speaking of, how am I to pay for this again? Would it be possible to charge another on my behalf?
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[He pulls one out of his pocket and shows it to her.]
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A strange world this one has become. Paper having value..? Any fool can craft paper.
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