gevurah: ([muffled rap music in the bg])
nobody likes kate kane ([personal profile] gevurah) wrote in [community profile] exsiliumlogs2013-11-08 09:31 pm

( open ) made you a prisoner inside your own secrecy

Date & Time: nov. 7th – 14th
Location: various locations
Characters: kate & you
Summary: kate (sort of, but not really) doing things and having feelings around the base and people maybe interrupting her.
Warnings: tba.


bathroom / showers ( closed to the first person who gets it anne boleyn )

[ Is she up earlier these days? Kate has to wonder this to herself as she exits the individual shower unit. Time is funny up in space; when days begin and end begin to blur together, but the implemented Earth hours seem to help a little. Whatever the time is now, it’s a good time to grab a quick shower despite the water never rising above lukewarm.

Wrapping herself in a snug towel that she had lifted off the hotel in Basel, she moves toward one of the mirrors and begins to dry herself off before she slips into clean undergarments, shorts, and an A-shirt. The USMA sweater (that she’s also lifted from her previous mission with a heavy heart) is tucked into the duffel bag along with her other belongings. She digs through it, extracting scissors and a small, fine comb. Once she’s combed through red locks that she’s allowed to grow far too long, she parts it and leans in the mirror to quickly examine its condition.

She uses the comb to separate a thick portion of it and she begins to snip away, shortening the length bit by bit. ]



cafeteria

[ The coffee brewed from the stolen machine is shit compared to what Gil had brewed her a while back. She tells herself to consider asking him for some of it in exchange for whatever she can afford to trade.

But beggars can’t be choosers. While she picks up some of the freeze dried fruits like banana slices, strawberries, and apples, Kate’s lived on far less – and worse – in the past. She’ll take jarred pickles that may have been sitting around too long over snake... although she sorely misses sushi.

She’ll think of it as Washington Hall; a really cheap and sadly lacking Washington Hall.

After she picks out some vegetable canned soup and heats it up, she makes her way down the floor to an empty table and seats herself. Her hair no longer spills over her shoulders and hangs before her line of vision: it’s neat and short once more, and it feels like a tiny, trivial weight off her shoulders. ]



virtual simulation room

[ She returns to the Academy.

Not the Academy in the 2200s, that’s not hers – not really. Neither is this one, though AI does a magnificent job with the little details in her memory. The room converts itself into one of the familiar grounds Kate once used to trek up and down in her cadet days. The buildings towering above with such historic beauty, the grass a lively and perfect green, and the memorials frighteningly committed to being as accurate as they can to her memory. The text glints in the false, bright rays of the sun above, displaying the words she’s engraved in her mind long ago:


THE CADET HONOR CODE
A CADET WILL NOT LIE, CHEAT, STEAL,
OR TOLERATE THOSE WHO DO.


The grass “crunches” softly beneath her feet as she hikes closer to the honour memorial. She grips the strap of her bag and pulls it forward, unzipping it, and pulling out the sweater she’s been meaning to wear proudly once again, but finding difficulty in scraping up any pride to do so. It may be a silly thing to wrestle with morally, though questionable morals is something she’s found herself facing more often in the past several months. ]



observatory

[ Without any bags to punch or weights to lift, Kate hasn’t had much of a workout since the necromorphs outbreak. She’s restless by the implemented time of nightfall. The observatory doesn’t comfort her much, however; space is supposed to be some incredible frontier filled with endless possibilities countries have raced each other to get to first, but under the glimmer of the stars she can finally see so clearly, she wonders what’s so great about a dark, empty place like this.

She positions herself against a wall and stares upward, lost in thought. At some point, she’s sitting on the floor with her tablet, reading through the information the AI’s decrypted a while back once more. ]
ensorceler: (❧ all the right friends)

[personal profile] ensorceler 2013-12-05 12:33 pm (UTC)(link)
[ There is also flattery to consider, because Anne Boleyn. Because bloodthirsty Tudor court. But she isn't lying, either. Especially in this place, if she found a reason to actually dislike the woman, she wouldn't waste time with a compliment. She would merely leave.

Maybe it's the stance that draws her interest, or the hair, or the beautiful but sharp features that can still soften enough for jest. And Anne does laugh appropriately while gathering up her mountain of clothes so she can find a more discreet corner to put her chemise back on. ]


Then I must limit my compliments to once a day, lest I do anything to arrest the balance of your beauty and grace.
Edited 2013-12-05 12:33 (UTC)
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[personal profile] ensorceler 2013-12-10 01:24 am (UTC)(link)
[ They used to a lot more, or maybe a lot more used to, and with expensive gifts no less, but maybe she should be grateful anyone still has any grace in future times and other worlds. She won't say anything so selfish, instead humbly nodding her head while glancing down and turning to gather up her things. Time for the art slash horror show of getting dressed. ]

Some are kinder than they need be.
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[personal profile] ensorceler 2013-12-14 11:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Anne's expression is as careful as her tone as she looks over her shoulder. ]

Do you think that to be the only reason?
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[personal profile] ensorceler 2013-12-23 12:08 am (UTC)(link)
Then it is they who lose more, for wit lasts much longer than beauty, and any man who cannot see this holds no favor of mine.

[ She disappears around the corner then, close but just out of view. Not than she has to worry that much about modesty, but it's polite when able. She'll only need to ask for help again once she reaches a certain point. ]
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[personal profile] ensorceler 2013-12-23 02:49 am (UTC)(link)
[ Despite Anne's talk, that isn't to say she doesn't place importance in beauty, but she is not a 'standard' beauty in the English court and never has been, but she has made that her weapon so far.

Here she wonders at the use of her own fashion, if she should not attempt more...updates. But the thought of always having to wear trousers makes her blood curdle. She cannot be showing her legs in public, either. ]


Mm, I must say so by this time. The ties, you see, and tucking the skirt in just so; but you cannot be gentle with me in this manner, or naught will be accomplished.