Chloe Frazer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
totallytrustworthy) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2014-02-17 05:12 pm
totallytrustworthy) wrote in exsiliumlogs2014-02-17 05:12 pm
Entry tags:
You're all my friends
Date & Time: Before groundhogging it or after depending on preference
Location: Exsilium proper/ wilderness/ various
Characters: Chloe Frazer and you as a fond farewell
Summary: a year and a half of thievery and trouble hits its last few notes
Warnings: VIOLENCE some of it
Location: Exsilium proper/ wilderness/ various
Characters: Chloe Frazer and you as a fond farewell
Summary: a year and a half of thievery and trouble hits its last few notes
Warnings: VIOLENCE some of it
A: E x s i l i u m
She's back to normal now. Residual lacquer stuck to her nails, hair still neatly trimmed at the edges and her trousers aren't the dirt-stained mess left behind of a little over a year's worth of close calls and fire fights, but she is herself again, and whatever magic that Facilier had carefully stuck in under her skin with a few nice words and a friendly gesture have-- for the most part-- been shaken off. Which is to say it's almost dysphoric having to readjust after being recalibrated so completely that even her old routines and habits feel unfamiliar: walking to the market to trade off another batch of heavy (only slightly roughed-up) furs is something more akin to watching video of the ground shifting forward, of footsteps in the snow and crowds filtering off out of focus.
Doesn't feel like there's weight in her arms or the sting of bitter cold on her cheeks.
Doesn't even feel like she's capable of recognizing any of the familiar faces she passes-- and she does pass them: without a second thought or even the uncertain shift of her attention that comes from purposefully dodging someone close.
How bloody rude. Particularly when she's not careful enough to keep from clipping the occasional passerby.
B: E x s i l i u m w i l d s
This, though. This is where she flourishes. These days, anyway. After too much time spent snagged on emotions and vital decisions, solitude and silent snowfall are more comforting than things like central heating or idle banter. Simple tasks are easy to fixate on (pull wire, wrap twig, bend branch, insert bait and wait), numbing pinpricks running just under layers of insulated clothing precede pain from too many hours of it spent out in the cold. Veins going tight in an effort to cling to any remaining heat. Unappealing, unattractive, inhospitable work.
And Chloe's smiling to herself through the chilled cracks of her frost-split lip as she goes about it.
Not that most people would feel right at home in a yeti-infested wilderness.
C: Wildcard
OOC: pick a different scenario or location, whichever suits you best, and we'll make it happen!
She's back to normal now. Residual lacquer stuck to her nails, hair still neatly trimmed at the edges and her trousers aren't the dirt-stained mess left behind of a little over a year's worth of close calls and fire fights, but she is herself again, and whatever magic that Facilier had carefully stuck in under her skin with a few nice words and a friendly gesture have-- for the most part-- been shaken off. Which is to say it's almost dysphoric having to readjust after being recalibrated so completely that even her old routines and habits feel unfamiliar: walking to the market to trade off another batch of heavy (only slightly roughed-up) furs is something more akin to watching video of the ground shifting forward, of footsteps in the snow and crowds filtering off out of focus.
Doesn't feel like there's weight in her arms or the sting of bitter cold on her cheeks.
Doesn't even feel like she's capable of recognizing any of the familiar faces she passes-- and she does pass them: without a second thought or even the uncertain shift of her attention that comes from purposefully dodging someone close.
How bloody rude. Particularly when she's not careful enough to keep from clipping the occasional passerby.
B: E x s i l i u m w i l d s
This, though. This is where she flourishes. These days, anyway. After too much time spent snagged on emotions and vital decisions, solitude and silent snowfall are more comforting than things like central heating or idle banter. Simple tasks are easy to fixate on (pull wire, wrap twig, bend branch, insert bait and wait), numbing pinpricks running just under layers of insulated clothing precede pain from too many hours of it spent out in the cold. Veins going tight in an effort to cling to any remaining heat. Unappealing, unattractive, inhospitable work.
And Chloe's smiling to herself through the chilled cracks of her frost-split lip as she goes about it.
Not that most people would feel right at home in a yeti-infested wilderness.
C: Wildcard
OOC: pick a different scenario or location, whichever suits you best, and we'll make it happen!
no subject
[The worst part might be that he seems totally at peace with the idea of it, too. Like there's this air of nonchalance he's carrying, which isn't at all like his typically easily panicked self.]
If you put a castle in a fishbowl, does the fish forget it's in a bowl and think it runs a kingdom?
no subject
When was the last time you lit up?
no subject
His eyes, for the most part, still look a little dilated. Maybe a little bloodshot still. Not glazed over though, he's definitely conscious and aware. For the most part.]
Uh.
Is there a quantifiable amount of 'a while'...? It means time. That's all it means.
[He isn't recoiling though. It's a mix between not caring, and liking hands on his face. Shhhh.]
no subject
Richard was speaking nonsense before he died, but Lowell's here. Beside the transporter, where it's safe. For once, she's willing to put her pessimism to the side and write it off as weed-rambling. Hopes to, anyway.] What did you mean about going crazy?
[Her palms stay at his jawline for the moment: she's still attempting to read his expression, the muscle movements that act as tells to someone like her.]
no subject
[He isn't even sure if what he's saying makes sense or not, but he has a feeling Chloe will understand it anyway. Midway through his little spiel, though, his eyes drift off to look to the left at some wall. Too much very-close-and-intense-eye-contact kind of is making him a little self conscious.]
no subject
How long ago was it that it started?
no subject
... Well, yes. It's like that.
[Okay phew he can breath again, now that she's not in his face...]
When what started? Feeling weird? I don't know. There's no specific time. It's just a feeling I am- was? Was having. Still am. Just a little. I'll probably snap out of this eventually. Don't be so concerned. I'm not dying. I can't be dying. This isn't what death feels like.
no subject
You haven't run into anyone else though, have you? No spooky magicians or tarot-toting madmen?
no subject
Spooky magicians. Tarot-toting madmen.
no subject
No one out of the ordinary's been in to see you.
no subject
Is this a Transport?
no subject
no subject
[SOBERED ENOUGH FOR BRO-MODE apparently.]
no subject
Aside from myself, anyway.
no subject
What, you're after me and my tech? ... My tech and I. Well- it's not going anywhere. And I'm not going anywhere. I think if someone was going to be after me at this point, it would have happened already. So you win.
no subject
[You still remember that, don't you?]
no subject
Oh.
Oh. Yes. Uh. I didn't forget about that. I was kidding too. Obviously.
no subject
New subject, then. Saw you were training transports over the network-- or thinking of it, at least.
no subject
[As opposed to his more strict opinion of 'ONLY I CAN KNOW!!' that he originally had, months ago.]
Free knowledge for everyone. Do you want to know how too?
no subject
no subject
[That's a lie. It is difficult. And not only that, but he'd be teaching her the whole shebang, while proper training for the Transporter really only covered certain parts depending on the maintainers specialty.
He sits on the floor nearby, legs crossed and hunched over a bit. ]
You can use a gun. That's technology.
no subject
Besides, I don't see the point in training anyone else - you're not going anywhere.