who sticks out a like a sore thumb?

[hejhej]

Who: Lisbeth to start out, but anyone who might be roaming around.
When: Afternoon of the 12th (so today)
Where: A mall within Sector 4
Summary: Lisbeth gears up to become Irene Nesser once more.
Warnings: This is Lisbeth. It's bound to be marred by language.


It was the first day she'd been outside of her apartment ever since arriving to Siren's Port. After her conversation with the lawyer, Lisbeth thought long and hard about working with them. She severely distrusted anyone who had anything to do with the law. Lawyers and psychologists had declared her incompetent and that's what landed her in St. Stefan's... She smoked four cigarettes after thinking about St. Stefan's and then went back to the task at hand. But the money that she'd come with was slowly draining; also the clock was ticking for her to either pay rent for that shithole or move out. Lisbeth didn't have to work at the law office, however; Irene Nesser could do it. Unfortunately for Lisbeth, she burned all of Irene's papers - passport, birth certificate - everything she needed to get a job.

Doctoring those documents again wouldn't be a hassle. She still had credit cards in Irene's name, but did they work here? She wasn't sure. But she had to get her whole outfit together one more time. She'd tossed her wig outside of a moving train when she was going back to Sweden.

You dumbass, she thought to herself, but why? She didn't think she'd end up in a place like Siren's Port. So dressed in her Sunday best of baggy black pants, her faithful caterpillar boots with duct tape holding her left sole together, and a worn black shirt that said "Fuck you you fucking fuck." Of course, no one could see the shirt as it was buried underneath her black coat. Her grey beanie covered her hair as she made her way into the mall. Her messenger bag was slung over her side.

As she walked through the mall, her eyes were focused on the ground.

Comments

[drinkthebleach]

[God knows what Pickles was even doing in Sector Four, at the moment except trying to find something to do. Recent unemployment due to reasons of accidentally killing his band opened up a lot of free time in his schedule, and everything worth going to was in Sector Four--at least everything that wasn't in Sector One, which he was trying to avoid for the time being.

So there he was, bumming around the mall like he did when he was a teenager. He haunted the record store for a while, bought a cinnamon bun from a kiosk near the escalators, and was currently heading elsewhere.

That's when Pickles finds himself in danger of bumping into someone walking in the opposite direction. He anticipates the sensation of a mild collision (especially when they don't seem to see him yet, as far as he knows), but he still doesn't move. He waits on them to be the first to look up and go. Mall chicken is the most superior bird, after all.]

[typhlopid]

[It has been a rather discouraging day. Snake is at the mall for a book store, one of the few that carries many books in braille. However, the service there was negligible today, and they did not have the book. There was once again the dripping-with-condescension suggestion that he would much prefer books on tape, to which Snake said something appropriately belittling and left.

It is noisy in the mall. People's thoughts buzz around him, stupid, petty, and dull, and he is dedicating far too much thought and energy to maintaining the barrier between himself and that noisy world.

That is why he bumps into her. A somewhat amateur mistake, though perhaps easily written off by the white cane he uses to navigate.]

--Oh, excuse me. I apologize. I am afraid this is one of the rare times I am at fault. [He flashes an apologetic smile in her direction.]

[tinyvampiregod]

[He's following her. Why? Why not. The way she moves, the way she keeps her eyes cast down, it piques his interest and as he has all the time in the world in this place, why not start with examining the citizens and attempting to discern whether or not they are supernatural and of what variety.

It also won't hurt to be out and about in case any of said supernatural creatures get out of hand and need a bit of reigning in. Physically.

So he follows her into the mall, looking like a small, pale child with blackest hair and a winter white coat.]