Laura | X-23-23 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shoplifter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2017-12-21 02:08 pm
shoplifter) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-12-21 02:08 pm
[OPEN] shitty situations for all, and for all a good nighttime stab
who: Laura and you.
what: ... Trouble, mostly...
when: Now-ish.
where: Multiple Places! Mainly roof, outside of wall, and on the skytram.
warnings: Blood, violence, gore. Stabby things. EDIT: Also, talk of self harm in Ivar thread.
Laura fights near the wall, Laura takes a tram, Laura has a bad dream while looking for santa at night.
... Also, bloody situations and digging out of a giant animal corpse. It's gross, I know.
Bracket and prose both A-OK, and time and space can be bent, I'm chill. The last prompt is for medium injuries if you wanna hurt your character, because everyone loves getting stabbed by children. Or if your character is a magic healer, feel free to get stabbed real gud and heal up or what have you. (Basically I'm just avoiding severe injury or death before Christmas okay).
Shitty Situation A
[Red splatters on the snow when her claws spear through the first creature's head -- some sort of hybrid beast, one that hunts for food, whose pack has strayed far from the darker areas of the abandoned area and closer to the wall. They surround her because she looks like easy food in the colder, needier climate, and the fight is on. The child growls when they growl back, and she leaps on one of their backs, hacking and slashing with reckless abandon.
They get in their own claw marks, too. Laura's shirt and jeans get torn into, skin as well. It hurts awfully, but Laura's more offended that they're ruining her cool cat shirt.
Her cool neon hat goes flying off in the breeze, carried over sloping snowy hills.
When she kills the last beast, which is considerably large -- the size of an elephant, the alpha, maybe -- it falls right on top of her. Luckily, her claws were out, and... uh... if you're unlucky enough to have found her after the fight instead of during, you will be unfortunate enough to watch a small clawed girl burst through the top of the beast's ribs, covered in blood from her... tunneling...
Just. Um. Yeah. Victory, I guess.]
Shitty Situation B.
[Laura stands in a skytram car, one hand curled on a metal bar. She's covered in dry blood, head to toe. All of the other passengers keep a very far distance around her.
... She's trying to head to the clothing store.]
The One Chill Situation.
[She sits on the roof, binoculars in her hands, watching the sky skeptically as the daylight fades. It's pretty cold up here, but she doesn't seem very bothered, wearing a few jackets and a good pair of boots. Got a red nose, too, but otherwise undaunted by the weather.
She falls asleep up there by accident, curled in a sleeping bag she apparently bought just to do this very thing. Trying to catch any signs of a 'santa' figure in the night, it seems.]
Shitty Situation C. (alternatively: like father like daughter)
[Nighttime.
She rolls a little in her sleeping bag, plagued by bad dreams. Little unintelligble mumbles escape her, sweat on her brow and hands in tight fists in the slippery fabric. She jostles enough that the action figures tucked away with her topple out.
No... stop it...
[The rest is Spanish -- "don't touch me, leave them alone, dad, help me"--
If one attempts to reach out and wake her -- they better have good reflexes. Because she will jackknife immediately up with a hoarse scream, claws out and lunging to stab at her fantasy captors.]
what: ... Trouble, mostly...
when: Now-ish.
where: Multiple Places! Mainly roof, outside of wall, and on the skytram.
warnings: Blood, violence, gore. Stabby things. EDIT: Also, talk of self harm in Ivar thread.
Laura fights near the wall, Laura takes a tram, Laura has a bad dream while looking for santa at night.
... Also, bloody situations and digging out of a giant animal corpse. It's gross, I know.
Bracket and prose both A-OK, and time and space can be bent, I'm chill. The last prompt is for medium injuries if you wanna hurt your character, because everyone loves getting stabbed by children. Or if your character is a magic healer, feel free to get stabbed real gud and heal up or what have you. (Basically I'm just avoiding severe injury or death before Christmas okay).
Shitty Situation A
[Red splatters on the snow when her claws spear through the first creature's head -- some sort of hybrid beast, one that hunts for food, whose pack has strayed far from the darker areas of the abandoned area and closer to the wall. They surround her because she looks like easy food in the colder, needier climate, and the fight is on. The child growls when they growl back, and she leaps on one of their backs, hacking and slashing with reckless abandon.
They get in their own claw marks, too. Laura's shirt and jeans get torn into, skin as well. It hurts awfully, but Laura's more offended that they're ruining her cool cat shirt.
Her cool neon hat goes flying off in the breeze, carried over sloping snowy hills.
When she kills the last beast, which is considerably large -- the size of an elephant, the alpha, maybe -- it falls right on top of her. Luckily, her claws were out, and... uh... if you're unlucky enough to have found her after the fight instead of during, you will be unfortunate enough to watch a small clawed girl burst through the top of the beast's ribs, covered in blood from her... tunneling...
Just. Um. Yeah. Victory, I guess.]
Shitty Situation B.
[Laura stands in a skytram car, one hand curled on a metal bar. She's covered in dry blood, head to toe. All of the other passengers keep a very far distance around her.
... She's trying to head to the clothing store.]
The One Chill Situation.
[She sits on the roof, binoculars in her hands, watching the sky skeptically as the daylight fades. It's pretty cold up here, but she doesn't seem very bothered, wearing a few jackets and a good pair of boots. Got a red nose, too, but otherwise undaunted by the weather.
She falls asleep up there by accident, curled in a sleeping bag she apparently bought just to do this very thing. Trying to catch any signs of a 'santa' figure in the night, it seems.]
Shitty Situation C. (alternatively: like father like daughter)
[Nighttime.
She rolls a little in her sleeping bag, plagued by bad dreams. Little unintelligble mumbles escape her, sweat on her brow and hands in tight fists in the slippery fabric. She jostles enough that the action figures tucked away with her topple out.
No... stop it...
[The rest is Spanish -- "don't touch me, leave them alone, dad, help me"--
If one attempts to reach out and wake her -- they better have good reflexes. Because she will jackknife immediately up with a hoarse scream, claws out and lunging to stab at her fantasy captors.]
no subject
Success to be determined, but she's following it up quickly with her dual-clawed knuckles, aimed and ready to try and lash out at his face. Her eyes are wild, sharp but also distant, and the scream that rips from her throat is that of a feral creature ready to claw its way from death.]
no subject
Still, he hears her cries. Those aren't the cries of someone trying to harm. It was fear. She's fast, not on speedster levels, but enough to get a few good swipes in. He wasn't going to stop her with brute strength. Which means he had to play this one defensive and careful.
Dammit, those tactics were always more work. He ducks another swipe and takes a canister out of his utility belt. It was... well, some silly string. Hey, when you are short on supplies you used what you could in your utility belt! He sprays her in the face to hopefully throwing the girl off her wild charge.]
"Stand down! I am not trying to hurt you!'
[He shouts in Spanish.]
no subject
Who are you?! What do you want?!
[Blood drips from her knuckles, plipping on the cold cement underfoot.]
no subject
Understandable.
Damian just raised his hands, lowering his hood and ignoring the sting from a few scratches on his arms. His hoodie clearly ripped, she got a few good scratches, he'd have to check but far as he could tell, no excessive blood loss was happening?]
I heard you yell for help. I just wanted to help.
[But, you know, a punch in the face isn't exactly helpful. He tells himself, marking his mistake and looks down at her bloody claws. She didn't scratch him deep enough for something like that, did she? His eyes move from the claws, back to her face.]
Are you hurt?
no subject
Yell - I did not yell...
[But she seems to be second-guessing that, because the memory of her particularly gruesome nightmare is still fresh and, she knows, the root cause of her panic. Had she really been crying out like that, outside of her dream...? She glances away. And relaxes. A fraction. She only lets her claws slide back into her skin because he's young. The cuts in her skin begin to mend, hidden in the shadows of the night.]
... I'm fine.
no subject
[He mutters at her, just as unfriendly and maybe a bit condescending. Trying to help and getting nearly skewered might've made him a little annoyed, but again, miscalculations were made on his part. ’Don’t get angry.’ He told himself, oddly hearing it in his brother’s voice.]
Clearly.
[He watches her claws retract and her hands heal over. Alien? Meta? It was a bit like approaching a scared animal in an alley. 'Wait for the claws to retract. Read the tension.']
That--Where do they go when you do that?
[He ask, gesturing to her hands, curiously.]
no subject
And is only distracted in her wordless glowering by his question.]
... Into my arms. Obviously.
[See, being on the receiving end of a smart-mouth is no fun!]
no subject
Not that obvious when you factor in the average human girl's bone structure. If you're human that is.
[Which judging from her speeding healing is not a guarantee.]
But judging from how you were crying out in your sleep...
[Give him all the dirty looks you want, but you were so asking for help in your sleep.]
I take it those weren’t something you were born with.
...And you missed a spot.
[He helpfully points to some silly string still in her hair.]
no subject
She doesn't remove the silly string in her hair any further, because fuck you surly little boy.
The defensive posture hardly leaves her, where she stands slightly hunched and staring.]
I was born with them. [Sort of. They mutated later, but it's not like the gene just grew out of nowhere; she was always slated to be a small Wolverine.] ... The metal was added later.
[So begrudgingly said.]