nobody said it'd be an easy ride

[faceblocks]

Who: vi and various people
What: catchall both open and closed eisdamme or eisdamme#7495 if you want some other thing/any thing.
When: august
Where: various places

Content Warnings: needles, being sick because alcohol, parental death, prison, drugs, disease, murder, mental/emotional/physical abuse, tba

the rest of the starters will follow tonight. pls be patient i am melting.

Comments

training wildcard: [jun, makoto, open: all month]

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[vi sometimes spends her free mornings on the beach, and when she's not carrying a sparkler and looking at squids (or learning the rules of beach volleyball) she's likely sparring with someone. the beach is kind of ...not the best place to be, lately.

sometimes she hangs for a while after fighting - quiet or chatty, and that depends, too. she has started to carry a small first aid kit with her - she's still building it, don't judge. but it's there just in case.

she has taken to climbing and vaulting around cellar door - though it's not uncommon for her to do the same in crenshaw, or even willful machine. sometimes she watches the crowds - always a bit of a laugh to interrupt a pickpocket - or to retrieve something from a thief. she doesn't always intervene, though.

ooc: really, it could be anywhere, switch it up if you want.]

cursed(?) statue shenanigans [closed to saeri: midmonth]

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[vi gives little thought to the carved seahorse she retrieved from the glowing roads beneath the sea. it's been at her side and pocketed like a worry-stone, and her thumb has made good use of it, too.

it's brought her a small amount of luck, the way she sees it. every pthumerian's a practical joker, it seems - but so far none of the jokes are funny. well, the part where carver kept freezing beers made her laugh a little, because if that's the worst thing happening? come on. there had been an inexplicable incident at ursula's with half of her inks launching themselves at the wall, two instances with her sketchbook doing near the same, one with paper frogs - but there have been no further events with anything moving of its own accord, wether or not she was thinking about it.

if she's somehow more impulsive she sure doesn't know it - between silco's arrival, the mutable, chaotic state of the ocean, a fresh crop of more angry bullshit coming from the ocean besides the angry bullshit ocean itself - fuck if she can tell how much more transparent she is. how her filter's eroded little by little just like the finer details of the seahorse's face that make it seem somehow "off".

maybe it's impulsive, but hadn't saeri said she should stop by? that girl did not strike her as someone to just say things they didn't mean: not that way. besides, she'd finished the drawing, and meant to give it to her in person, not leave it in her work area with a plate of cookies as per plan a.

this ...is a different plan. vi is here, cookies are here, her sketchbook is here. where is here? she doesn't know. she had not asked saeri where exactly she lived. so she's ...outside. and fires off a message from her omni:]

hey im outside

[saeri can look if she likes, but vi will not be seen. she's only just stepped out of the rookery door.]

tattoo things: [open: all month]

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[two days during the week (a perfectly respectable every other day tues & thurs situation) vi can reliably be found at ursula's ink. she's in and out at other times when the mood suits, or if she has an appointment: she always shows up early for appointments.

presently, one will find her in her corner station next to a large window, her inks and tools carefully set out, and a (growing) neatly bound portfolio on the other end of that table. it's full of nearly all blackwork, some similar to what's on her skin, as well as geometric shapes, and an assortment of creatures both of trench and not. fancy a nightmare steed? she's got several of those in various stages of completion, and a few pieces of portraiture that are not compiled in the book scattered about. you might recognize some of the portraits. (it's d. they're all d.)

vi will busy herself until she sees a face, familiar or strange. don't worry, if you're afraid of needles, she's got that covered, too: she's a vileblood, and she doesn't charge extra if you need a bit of numbing up. she's got a small sign that says as much, but it also comes with a warning. best not to lie about broken skin, etc. - because you could die. and she will not be held responsible for that. there is a form to sign. it is very professional.]

family dinner : [closed to rookery crew + falco and ?allen?: late august]

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[OOC: I AM MOVING THIS TO SEPTEMBER BECAUSE AUGUST IS SURE SOMETHING.]

too many shots [closed to qrow early am 8/9]

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[it's a little early for this sort of thing to be, say, expected, as the sun has barely dipped below - and only the first touch of shadows has begun to kiss the streets of cellar door. the temperature here - a fickle thing, vi finds - has chilled significantly, but just now she's not concerned in the slightest. can't feel it, even though she's jacketless.

oh, she'd been pleasantly warm for a time, when the fire in her throat had spread to her chest and unfolded in her belly - one petal of 'i don't give a fuck' at a time - before the number of shots consumed has exceeded her own age and threatened to double it.

what's definitely doubled: her vision.

it's full stumble ahead for her, hands up and a mumble of 'sorry, shit, sorry' for each of the three people she's managed to bump into in the last few minutes. the fourth had been a food cart.

one foot in front of the other is suddenly very hard. the ground she hits is also very hard, but she doesn't feel that, either - and her palms go out too late to truly catch herself. elbows scrape on stone, and she steps on the hem of her tunic as she tries to get up - to right herself.

but nothing's right at all. she cannot remember the particulars of it - she's momentarily forgotten everything other than trying to stand on two legs, bending down and stumbling again as she brushes the gravel off of the front of her leggings.]

serious talking about serious things: [closed to viktor]

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[a few days pass - she's sent her own message back to silco, drank about it, regretted both things, and received another message that she's honestly not sure how she managed to reply to with any manner of civility. any wounds she might have incurred after finding silco on the beach have faded completely, but there's a wary watchfulness about her now, a recklessness she is trying very hard to keep the tightest of lids on.

so far so good?

before she even sent the message she'd made sure her room was tidy enough - bed half made, and there are still. crumbs. but not on anything important.

he will find the rookery to be perhaps at odds with what one might imagine for vi's living quarters but, that aside it's a splendid building.

she will greet him at the door with a tired smile, red-rimmed eyes and a ready hug.]