Post by drew on Aug 1, 2013 16:10:56 GMT -6
It was a bit quiet if you kept to yourself. Besides the usual rabble by the tavern, she found it to be normal by now. She'd lived her for what... a few years now? Since she was nineteen or eighteen, yeah. It still hurt, leaving her home like that. Drew wondered if she could ever go back. Her hair was longer now, her face changed a bit... She even grew a few feet. But no. She supposed not. Let's be realistic. People did not like what she had. Even if she hid it, she could still feel it crawling around inside of her. It took away her home, her family... All because of some... some glitch in her DNA. It wasn't fair. Life wasn't fair. Drew looked up at the sky, breathing in the cool air that came with night. She was dead tired and could not sleep though she had work in the morning. Did it make any difference to wander around at night for a good walk? Nope. Somebody said to "walk it off" when you had insomnia. Others said to read a book. An old wives tale would tell you to drink hot milk. She tried all that. From the moment she was five years old, she remembered she could not sleep normally. She finally took medication when she was twelve, but even then it was touch and go. I should go to the doctor in town she thought at this late hour, then shook her head as she continued to walk. She heard mixed reviews about the doctor and what if... what if the doctor could tell?
Tell if she had something wrong with her?
She kept it a good secret. Foreigner from far away land living on the island for years. Just keeping to herself. Never bothering nobody. No trouble with the law or locals. Pretty routine life. She had to admit it did get pretty lonely sometimes with no one to talk to, but for a better part of her life she holed herself up in her room and talked to no one but her folks. Now that she was on her own, however... Seeing people with others, talking merrily away. It was like some part of her was missing. Hmm. Best not to dwell on it. Like not dwelling on that horrible noise that seemed to be coming from the bushes. Twice she stopped, thinking some drunk idiot was having some fun. Then something just jumped from the brush entirely.
"OhmyfreakinggawdI'mgoingtodiealongandhorribledeath!" Drew screamed all at once, tripping over her own legs in an attempt to get away. Now on the ground, she started to scramble pitifully away by pulling herself forward with her arms. Behind her, something uttered a low moaning. Like pain. Her own hands scraped against the cement of the centre... She could not tell the ache from her own pain and another's. Against her better judgement, she looked over her shoulder and saw a dog. A ragged looking thing. Brown, from what she could see in this light. It just looked at her, seed-like eyes glazed. OK, so I'm not going to die she conceded, swinging around to comfortably sit herself in a seating position in front of the creature. Upon examination Drew realized it was a stray. No collar, sunken belly... Ahh, it was hanging around because it smelled her pets' food safely secure in her messenger bag. Well, she couldn't give it cat or rabbit food. Reaching out, she pressed a swollen hand against it's cheek. "Sorry, buddy. I don't have anything. W-Well that's not true but you'd just get sick if you ate what I have. Um..." she looked around, wondering if the stores were still open. She doubted at this hour. Maybe the tavern would give her something for the dog.
She stood and the canine followed, though holding it's paw at an awkward angle. The young woman was so focused on looking at the shops that she didn't notice, and her hands - usually the source of spelling out pain - didn't prickle outside of showing her own pain from falling down. I can't take the guy home, but I can't just leave him here either. Shoot.
OOC: anybody is allowed in, no fixed number on the number of people. though two others would be a healthy number. ;3 Also, the setting is of course night. Thursday. 11 PM.
Tell if she had something wrong with her?
She kept it a good secret. Foreigner from far away land living on the island for years. Just keeping to herself. Never bothering nobody. No trouble with the law or locals. Pretty routine life. She had to admit it did get pretty lonely sometimes with no one to talk to, but for a better part of her life she holed herself up in her room and talked to no one but her folks. Now that she was on her own, however... Seeing people with others, talking merrily away. It was like some part of her was missing. Hmm. Best not to dwell on it. Like not dwelling on that horrible noise that seemed to be coming from the bushes. Twice she stopped, thinking some drunk idiot was having some fun. Then something just jumped from the brush entirely.
"OhmyfreakinggawdI'mgoingtodiealongandhorribledeath!" Drew screamed all at once, tripping over her own legs in an attempt to get away. Now on the ground, she started to scramble pitifully away by pulling herself forward with her arms. Behind her, something uttered a low moaning. Like pain. Her own hands scraped against the cement of the centre... She could not tell the ache from her own pain and another's. Against her better judgement, she looked over her shoulder and saw a dog. A ragged looking thing. Brown, from what she could see in this light. It just looked at her, seed-like eyes glazed. OK, so I'm not going to die she conceded, swinging around to comfortably sit herself in a seating position in front of the creature. Upon examination Drew realized it was a stray. No collar, sunken belly... Ahh, it was hanging around because it smelled her pets' food safely secure in her messenger bag. Well, she couldn't give it cat or rabbit food. Reaching out, she pressed a swollen hand against it's cheek. "Sorry, buddy. I don't have anything. W-Well that's not true but you'd just get sick if you ate what I have. Um..." she looked around, wondering if the stores were still open. She doubted at this hour. Maybe the tavern would give her something for the dog.
She stood and the canine followed, though holding it's paw at an awkward angle. The young woman was so focused on looking at the shops that she didn't notice, and her hands - usually the source of spelling out pain - didn't prickle outside of showing her own pain from falling down. I can't take the guy home, but I can't just leave him here either. Shoot.
OOC: anybody is allowed in, no fixed number on the number of people. though two others would be a healthy number. ;3 Also, the setting is of course night. Thursday. 11 PM.
credits to lurker of gs