( open ) don't say yes if you can't say no

[freewoman]

Date & Time: Post-dated to 25th
Location: Around the city
Characters: Ygritte and YOU
Summary: Ygritte being Ygritte and doing her usual thing around the city
Warnings: She comes with her own standard warning

There wasn't much about the mission she had liked. It wasn't necessarily bad, and it was more comfortable than the time she was in New Mexico. At least the heat hadn't killed her. Though she was glad to have her furs back on. Stocked on her weapons, Ygritte left the security of her encampment for her daily forage.

And by forage, it was usually stealing what she could where she could. People didn't secure their things nearly as well here, and she usually came back home with a few pieces of fruit or occasionally some animal she could easily slaughter. It just wasn't easy coming by animals period. She did wonder where they came from to begin with, but Ygritte preferred to prepare her own meat, perpetually distrusting of the way of life here. However sometimes she got by with stealing jewelry and gold and would trade for the animal. The concept of money was mostly unused by her. She did things the way her people did it, and she lived decently well for it.

So that was what she was doing today, seeing what she could pilfer and trade.

Comments

[weapabilities]

Things had gone back to normal, and as such, Drift's search for his missing companion continued. He had already been around the city once. He apparently didn't know the meaning of giving up.

Currently however, he's resting in the rubble of a small building (or what once was), with one foot propped up on his knee. He appears to be attempting to pull something from his foot plating to no avail.

"Nnhhghggh. Fragging- to the pit with it!" He did not miss the climate, he's damn well sure of that, and now a muddy rock has lodged itself right in his toe plates. He's so focused on it, he doesn't seem to notice anyone near by.

hope this is okay!

[onemistress]

Elizabeth had been minding her own business as she walked about the streets. Still trying to get used to how things worked here. She still couldn't get used to how this place worked, from the lights that seemed to work by magic to living without servants, it was as awful as it could be. She stood out, brightly colored silks even if their hem seemed to become perpetually stained in mud and the pearls around her neck -- that she was never going to let anyone take if what was said of them was true -- and the gold rings on her fingers.

Or at least the rings had been. In the rain they tended to slip loosely on her fingers when she was walking about. Instead she'd taken to threading them onto a ribbon and tying them off around her wrist. It seemed safer than leaving them in her rooms at least, which were hardly secure at all. Mostly they seemed fine, and she hardly noticed them until there was a strange tug.

Her hand went to it immediately, catching what felt like a hand there. What on earth -- She turned immediately, snatching at whoever would dare steal from her. "What do you think you're doing?"

[bloodyantivan]

Zevran didn't get out much as he used to do. Since being blinded in the bombings navigating Exsilium became a new sort of challenge, one he was still acquainting himself with. His training as an assassin made him fairly well-equipped to fight without any visuals, but moving around in his day-to-day was another game entirely.

Today was a simple enough exercise - he was headed to the Initiative building to do some training, as he always did. Along with him is Atticus, Elissa's gigantic mabari hound, as heavy and thickly built as the best warriors, if a little nearer to the ground. No leash or anything so undignified for the beloved companion, which turned out to be a problem: he smelled fresh meat coming from someone else's bag and was briefly distracted, bounding over to Ygritte with an expectant look.

The elf approached, clucking his tongue. He was dressed in a skirt, a long jacket and high boots: comfortable clothing in mute colors that blended in with the residents of the city. Better to dress this way than in his leathers and attract the attention of a people all too happy to place the blame on Transports for their predicaments.

He does carry his daggers strapped to his back. The only other out of place element would be the dark glasses hiding his eyes: a bit unnecessary in the gloom of the city.

/sneaks in

[fe_male]

There was rather an art to the whole scavenging business. A sort of flair that either one possessed or did not possess that made them good at it or not, as far as he could tell. A body had to be reasonably inventive, or at least visionarily based, for the true potential of any one thing to be properly recognized. Of course, there was value in the genuine scraps as well, the tiny little things that were underfoot and overlooked. Value in that they could be melted down into something else, but hey, saves on some of the production costs either way. He'd been pretty desperate for certain metals when he first arrived. Not so much anymore, but sometimes the metal composition would be interesting and he'd have something else to consider using.

The drawback to the whole 'art' idea was that apparently everyone in the damn place thought themselves an artist, which meant that you'd wind up finding something that perfectly fit what you needed being used to prop open a door somewhere, and damn if the new owner doesn't realize they've got you by the short and curlies now that you're showing interest in their door-stop. Moderately annoying. Of course, you could always foist something useless back off on them, touting the potential of it until it was just too much to resist, but for the most part Tony liked to keep more positive public relations going on here. Especially recently. It was much easier to drop a few marques here and there - although he couldn't do that so easily either, his resources were infinitely more finite here than he had ever experienced back home. Well, except for a couple of specific moments.

But anyway. 'Reclaiming' usually didn't overlap with other transports so much. He wasn't sure why, he just hadn't run into too many of them doing it, which was weird because he was pretty sure basically everyone and their mother's pet rock were all doing it. Who knows.

"Got your eye out for anything in particular?"