[open]

[apotropaic]

Who: Philomena Flores & you.
What: Philomena takes abduction literally in stride.
Where: Griss Twist and thereabouts.
When: Sukkardi daytime.
Notes: a polyvore set!
Warnings: None.

Once she was out of that claustrophobic little cell of a room, Philomena hadn’t paused, had strode past the Inn employee without a thank you, handbag clamped underneath one arm, and kept going until she was outside and turning to look at everything.

Jesus. It was real.

Then she’d kept walking, determinedly, like she had some place to go, until her blisters started to form blisters from her always too-high heels. Finally, she stopped to sit on a low wall and let her mind catch up.

There was magic all around her and it was dizzying. There were more supernatural creatures here than she’d ever seen, dotted amongst others she knew were human, dotted amongst people she didn’t even know the word for. It was unreal. It was frightening and hilarious and unreal, all at the same time.

After a while, she reached for what looked like a colourful clustered bag charm, took it off and played with beads she’d made herself while reciting an incantation. It wasn’t real spellwork; it was adding something extra to a talisman. It was like offering up a silent prayer to magic, the universe, whoever was running the show, asking for help, guidance, protection. Luck. She’d take any and all right now.

Comments

[gwynn]

Speaking of people neither supernatural nor quite human...

Megan took a couple days off work, but then headed back. She didn't really need the money, after her initial spree when she'd first gotten this job and discovered how much money she'd made, she'd actually not been hemorrhaging marks like she thought she'd be. She had a pretty tidy pool of savings and could get by a couple more weeks without it.

But work would take her mind off the trauma of the past few weeks and they were sure to have a lot of no-shows -- either because of deaths (the thought of which made her stomach sink) or employees too busy rebuilding their homes. She figured she could at least help out if they had any reconstruction to do; that's why she was, for once, wearing pants.

The Vault still wasn't quite open yet when she got there but she did help out a little by moving some big debris too heavy for anyone to lift. But there would be no shows for a while.

After she left, she stopped at a couple places. Liquor store first. Grocery second. She needed food for her apartment, she'd run out during the siege, but she got distracted with comfort food instead, and, well...

That's why she's currently digging through a pack of gummi worms when she stops abruptly when she sees another girl. "I like your hair," she comments out of the blue, because... she's like that, yes.

[apotropaic]

It takes a moment for her to realize there's someone talking to her before Philomena turns her middle-distance-then-startled look to a practiced smile and wow this other girl is actually some sort of fairy, which only makes her smile widen.

"Oh! Thanks. I love yours; pink is by far my favorite color." ...not that anyone could tell.

There's a fidgety moment of what-do when meeting new people in a magical city, before she finally settles on something like an introduction. "I'm Philomena. I just got brought here." And hopefully that manages to explain the disorientation.

[gwynn]

Pink, ew. Nobody here likes pink. Megan beams. "Thank you! I wish I could take credit for it but, like, I guess that's mother nature's doing, whoops." Convenient, though!

"Oh! You're new! That means we're in the same cohort." Megan flutters her wings, producing a low buzzing hum and propelling her forward by a couple of feet. "It's kind of fuck-off crazy, right? You've got good timing, though, the last couple weeks were like... total balls. But shit's cool now, I guess, apparently. Like, whatever." Yes, like whatever indeed, Megan, who was freaking the hell out barely a week ago. "I'm Megan, or, like, Pixie, whichever, s'cool."

[apotropaic]

It's hard to say whether it's the interaction with another person or the fact that Megan is clearly on some sort of similar, sweary level, but some tensed up, nervous little part of Philomena deflates and the usual need to speak her mind takes over.

"Oh God yes. This? This is some serious bat shit insanity going on right here." She stabs at her thigh with her index finger for emphasis. "And, I mean, I like to think I'm good with this sort of thing? But just. Holy shit, world. Holy shit. Don't go all rabbit hole on me."

There's a flail of hands, then, "Okay, I'm done. No, probably not. But yeah."