[Wendy Berber] *Wendy Berber felt like warmed over death. Tall and thin, she moves like some pale wrath through the streets of a neglected corner of Lakeview. She’s on the outskirts of La Familia territory, her bus having broken down, her thin form stopped against the clear and biting chill of night. A plastic bag crinkles in one spindly hand, as a satchel heavy with books tugs hard at boney shoulders. Large crooked glasses dominate narrow facial features, catching the light of dim street lamps and throwing it back into the night.*
[Rory] In Lake View there are many little stores, that have many dumpsters, with many cool things. Its inside one of these dumpsters that the redheaded Metis is currently digging through, stretching to reach something just… over… there… in the corner.. wriggling further into the dumpster – her feet kicking her torso deeper into the depths.
It’s not a sight you see every day, for sure.
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy’s trudging home on long spindly legs better suited to a heron than gangly a six foot tall teenager. The sudden ruckus of activity catches her eye, and has her freeze in place, tense. Legs kick, and it appears the person is trying to get in the dumpster… or.. perhaps just failing at escaping it? Wendy bites her finger nail nervously, before reaching out in the air between them. As though she can psychicly tap the feet to get their attention, before murmuring nervously.*
Uh-Uhm.. Hey? Are you o-okay.. uh, In there?
[Rory] Someone talks, and it startles hr so that she jumps – and falls right into the dumpster. She tumbles in and the feet disappear, even though there’s some satisfaction now that she can reach the object she wanted. now she needs a shower too. Where feet were is replaced by a bloodred mop of curls, pale and freckled skin, and green eyes.
She looks a little embarrassed by the splash of color on her cheeks. “Fine!”
She ducks her head a little and the works on climbing from the dumpster with some little bit of grace.
[Wendy Berber] [uhoh]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Wendy Berber] OH! um! I’m s-so Sorry! *She exclaims as the redhead topples into the dumpster in alarm, Wendy takes two stilt-legged steps forward before stopping again. Her nostrils flare and she goes a little greener, stepping back as Rory gets out of the dumpster. The chill wind rustles past shaggy black hair, carrying the pungent odor of the dumpster and Rory both. The skinny kin reels back, pale and bringing a hand to her tomach, but she manages to keep down the apple juice and crackers she’s had for supper.*
Ugh..
[Rory] Though she is now covered with stench, she doesn’t seem to notice, to mind. She hits the ground of the alley, and sink to a crouch, shrugging her back pack more firmly on her shoulders as slender pale fingers work over the item she’d been reaching for, moving the parts and pieces and figuring out what it is, if it can be of use.
She looks up at Wendy with a shy little grin, and ducks her head back to her project. “Is ok.”
[Wendy Berber] *Wendy’s frowning, though her mouth is covered just in case she becomes sick, so her expression is rather hard to read. She steadies herself with a faint “urk” and looks back up at Rory.* Um.. d-did you lose something Miss. Or..are you hungry?
[Rory] “Rory.” she provides her name, even as she decides that the the box she’d reached for is good, and pulls her pack around so that she can shove it into it’s depths.
She blinks at Wendy, and then shakes her head. “I fix things. Thound fis – will make it work.”
[Wendy Berber] Oh? Oh! Uh. I’m W-wendy. um.. Thound fis? *The book worm swallows watery saliva, stomach churning from the smell of trash. She adjusts the strap of a heavy satchel biting into a thin shoulder. She leans her skinny neck forward just a little, careful as she looks at the Thound fis, trying to identify it.*
Ni-nice to meet you Miss R-rory.
[Rory] She blinks, and then ducks her head, sighing. “Found this.” she tries again, though she hears nothing different than she what she said the first time, hearing what she intends to say, rather than what she did say. “It’s a busic mox.”
SHe calls her ‘miss’ and Rory blinks at her, chewing on her lower lip, absently. “Just Rory.” She’s not important enough for a ‘miss’.
[Wendy Berber] [int med]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 5, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Wendy Berber] Its a b-Oh! OH! *Wendy’s head had tilted, a long finger pushing her glasses up as the girl sighed and tried once more to explain what she’d found. Rory mispronounces it again in that strange backwards way, and the kin’s eyes narrow, face growing thoughtful. Then a light dawns, breaking slowly over narrow features as the looming stick figure exclaims.*
I’m s-sorry if, um, if I’m wrong, but… You um.. Do you have S-sp-spoonerism, Rory?
[Rory] She blinks, and then she smiles. It’s a shy thing, barely peeking through and she tucks her head so that she can hide it behind her hair, even as she nods and sends those curls into tumbling disarray.
“Yes. Dr Slaughter said that’s cat it is whalled.”
[Wendy Berber] Dr. um.. Imogen Slaughter.. ? *Wendy scratches at her hair with twiggy fingers, swallowing a thick lump of nauseousness at the smell in the area, green battling with the pink of chill nipped cheeks. The shy smile gets a quirk of her lips, Wendy drawing her plastic bag to her chest with a nervous crinkle, paying attention to the feel of the person in front of her, rather than the look of her.* Um….
[Rory] Her head bobs into a nod at the question. That’s the Dr. Slaughter in question, the one who explained what it was, what it meant she rubs her hands on her thighs, and zips up her pack with the music box inside. She’ll work on it later.
Wendy is watching her, paying attention, and it’s not hard at all to note that there is something about Rory, her rage is high, a power undeniable under her skin, a complete opposite of her delicate fragility. She lifts a hand and rubs at her nose absently. “They said it was a dental meformity.”
[Wendy Berber] [nu-oh]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Wendy Berber] A d-dental- uh no – Mental? Deform-mity? Um.. Have you um, ever visited the b-*Wendy steps closer, only to be hit by a wave of pungent garbage scented air. Her head ducks, spindly body folding in two like a jackknife, bag crinkling as the skinny kin hold her knees, olive with sickly pallor. She gags once, twice, but nothing comes of it, making a small squeak of displeasure as she rests just so for several long moments.*
S-sorry..
*The bookworm manages, spitting on the ground.*
Flu..
[Rory] She steps closer, and then turns green with the scent of garbage that clings to Rory. She’d just showered and gotten clean clothing a couple days ago, but there was something quite disgusting in the bottom of that dumpster that she’d landed in when Wendy startled her.
She watches her, slightly, and just remains crouched where she is. “You ok?”
[Wendy Berber] Uck.. yep ..um.. mmhm. . *She’s swallowing hard against the sick feeling threatening to rise up and spill out onto the sidewalk, squinting and shaking her head as she straightens and blurts..* I.. uh.. Rory have you b-been to the B-Brotherhood p-pub ever?
[Rory] There’s a low growl at the back of her throat. “Yes. Itching power and should cowers.”
She looks down at herself though, and scrubs the back of her hand along her jaw with a sigh. “Smells bat thad?”
[Wendy Berber] *A deep breath taken to calm her trembling stomach, eyes shut a moment before she nods once. Itching powder. She’s heard about that. It was probably Alexander Vaughn. Wendy clears her throat shortly.* Its um..Its okay.. I ..just have the stomach flu. So.. I get sick at everything lately…Ummmmm…
*Eyes magnified by coke bottle glasses blink rapidly, looking for spectators before the kin murmurs in a small nervous voice.*
I’m M-mate to Brother of the Lost, Uktena. And j-just this way.. *South points a spindly finger.* Is the La Familia P-Packhouse – and a shower?
If you want.
*She adds hastily.*
[Rory] She tips her head slightly, curious, and then looks past Wendy as if she could see the packhouse, and the shower inside, and then back to Wendy.
She stands, and nods, slightly, slinging her pack back on her shoulders. She’s not tall, at all, and has that pale fragility that makes people want to protect her, despite the fact that she can and has broken wyrmspawn with hardly a second thought.
“OK.”
[Wendy Berber] Ok. *Wendy nods, making towards the pack house with a quick step. Chewing nervously on a fingernail as she goes.*
[Rory] [Fade! Thanks for playing!]