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capeandcowllogs2013-04-03 09:30 pm
centurybaby) wrote in capeandcowllogs2013-04-03 09:30 pm
(OPEN LOG) you may one day be queen
WHO: jennifer quantum & YOU.
WHERE: nooks and crannies of the city.
WHEN: your choice of early evening or late night.
WARNINGS: jenny's vocabulary, etc.
SUMMARY: the depowered teenage terrorist is laying low. sort of.
FORMAT: quick to start, but i'll match you!
( early evening )
[ she isn't sure if it's the fact that she's basically human now or the state of the world or something else entirely-- maybe it's the restlessness, that's been bad-- but she's been smoking herself aggressively back into the grave with a cigarette at her mouth every hour she isn't sleeping. it's always been a bad habit, but it's an annoying one now. you never realize how often you use the spark of your quantum powers to light your smokes until you can't do it anymore.
that's how you end up outside a shabby, hole-in-the-wall convenience store when you should be hiding from the authorities. it's an excuse to see how the city's doing anyway, and her cigarettes won't light themselves. though it's starting to seem unlikely that her new cheap plastic lighter will either. she sits down on the curb with a fresh cigarette hanging from her mouth, clicking that lighter over and over without producing more than a teasing spark. ]
Fuck.
--
( late night )
[ she sticks around a little longer than she should. but things seem quieter now, like maybe the events in a small country across the ocean is starting to fade from people's minds. it's worth the risk, maybe, to walk around the city a little and ease back the building agitation she's harbored after weeks of laying low, powerless and fucking bored. the bustling crowds that flood the sidewalks during the day are more or less thinned to a few stragglers by now anyway.
she's got a half-smoked cigarette hanging from her fingers as she pauses to watch a random couple argue across the street. her cigarette dwindles without her really paying attention to it. she's not even sure what it is exactly about those strangers that catches her attention so much (except maybe in a weird way, it makes her think of her parents), but it's too late by the time she notices someone looming over her and something sharp pressed up against her back through her jacket.
she thinks he says, in a rushed voice, something cliche like: hand over your money. now.
she thinks about his atoms. about their little tiny bonds breaking apart. she thinks about the molecules that make him up just disappearing, defying the laws of physics. but nothing happens. because jenny quantum is a lesser being right now, so instead of handing anything over, she just huffs out a amused breath at the irony. all she can think of as the mugger makes his demand louder is that her dad would have ripped his throat out by now. ]
WHERE: nooks and crannies of the city.
WHEN: your choice of early evening or late night.
WARNINGS: jenny's vocabulary, etc.
SUMMARY: the depowered teenage terrorist is laying low. sort of.
FORMAT: quick to start, but i'll match you!
( early evening )
[ she isn't sure if it's the fact that she's basically human now or the state of the world or something else entirely-- maybe it's the restlessness, that's been bad-- but she's been smoking herself aggressively back into the grave with a cigarette at her mouth every hour she isn't sleeping. it's always been a bad habit, but it's an annoying one now. you never realize how often you use the spark of your quantum powers to light your smokes until you can't do it anymore.
that's how you end up outside a shabby, hole-in-the-wall convenience store when you should be hiding from the authorities. it's an excuse to see how the city's doing anyway, and her cigarettes won't light themselves. though it's starting to seem unlikely that her new cheap plastic lighter will either. she sits down on the curb with a fresh cigarette hanging from her mouth, clicking that lighter over and over without producing more than a teasing spark. ]
Fuck.
--
( late night )
[ she sticks around a little longer than she should. but things seem quieter now, like maybe the events in a small country across the ocean is starting to fade from people's minds. it's worth the risk, maybe, to walk around the city a little and ease back the building agitation she's harbored after weeks of laying low, powerless and fucking bored. the bustling crowds that flood the sidewalks during the day are more or less thinned to a few stragglers by now anyway.
she's got a half-smoked cigarette hanging from her fingers as she pauses to watch a random couple argue across the street. her cigarette dwindles without her really paying attention to it. she's not even sure what it is exactly about those strangers that catches her attention so much (except maybe in a weird way, it makes her think of her parents), but it's too late by the time she notices someone looming over her and something sharp pressed up against her back through her jacket.
she thinks he says, in a rushed voice, something cliche like: hand over your money. now.
she thinks about his atoms. about their little tiny bonds breaking apart. she thinks about the molecules that make him up just disappearing, defying the laws of physics. but nothing happens. because jenny quantum is a lesser being right now, so instead of handing anything over, she just huffs out a amused breath at the irony. all she can think of as the mugger makes his demand louder is that her dad would have ripped his throat out by now. ]
no subject
[ at his next comment, she just shrugs. ]
Like what?
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(he rubs the back of his neck; not that he's any better though.)
That was pretty stupid, though.
no subject
Are you seriously fucking disappointed?
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All you had to do was hold on until I got there, shot some of them and taken you back home.
(Instead she went off and got herself killed, like it's her fault.
But, it's really his.)
no subject
[ her eyebrows draw together. ]
It wasn't like I fucking laid down and let myself get fucking killed.
no subject
(worried, scared, upset, and - )
I'm sorry, I didn't get there in time.
no subject
What the fuck are you talking about, Han? That wasn't your fault. You don't get to apologize because you didn't do anything wrong.
no subject
no subject
I'm a big girl, Han.
no subject
Yeah, but you're my big girl, you know?
no subject
Yeah. Well. Big girls got their big girl shit to do. Alright?
no subject
no subject
[ time for another cigarette. she's not over that one just yet. maybe she won't ever be. it's hard to say. ]
Next time, I won't be fucking sentimental. And then I won't get fucking shot.
no subject
Don't be dumb, Jay Q.
no subject
What the hell, Han?
no subject