A LITTLE AFTER A RIFT SHENANIGAN/LOCATION FLEXIBLE. ( There's a woman dressed smartly - a dark single breasted jacket, a deep red skirt and shirt. "Smartly," but something is off about her. Her feet are stockinged but she's wearing no shoes. Her knuckles are a little bloody, clearly the worst of it was washed away, but the flesh is intact. Her hair is tied back neatly, her make up is simple and well done, but she looked hagged and tired.
She's clearly not okay, if the tense way she holds herself is anything to go by, the way her stockings have ripped about her feet, filthy from walking in the dirt. )
Christ, I've really lost my mind. ( Quiet, barely audible, as she looks at the world around her. She's clear of the— whatever the fuck those things were, but that hadn't made the world fall back into what it was supposed to be. Her laugh is quiet and sardonic. ) Congrats, Childs. You've gone to Hell, and it's a God damn D and D campaign.
KIRKWALL. ( And by "Kirkwall" I, of course, mean "The Hanged Man Tavern," because fuck this. She's sitting, nursing something weak claiming to be whiskey, and wondering if this place is really that shitty, or if she just got ripped off. )
Hey.
( The barkeep ignores her, and she raises her voice a little. ) Hey. You got something better than this shit?
beth childs | orphan black. cw: potential reference to suicide and drug & alcohol abuse
( There's a woman dressed smartly - a dark single breasted jacket, a deep red skirt and shirt. "Smartly," but something is off about her. Her feet are stockinged but she's wearing no shoes. Her knuckles are a little bloody, clearly the worst of it was washed away, but the flesh is intact. Her hair is tied back neatly, her make up is simple and well done, but she looked hagged and tired.
She's clearly not okay, if the tense way she holds herself is anything to go by, the way her stockings have ripped about her feet, filthy from walking in the dirt. )
Christ, I've really lost my mind. ( Quiet, barely audible, as she looks at the world around her. She's clear of the— whatever the fuck those things were, but that hadn't made the world fall back into what it was supposed to be. Her laugh is quiet and sardonic. ) Congrats, Childs. You've gone to Hell, and it's a God damn D and D campaign.
KIRKWALL.
( And by "Kirkwall" I, of course, mean "The Hanged Man Tavern," because fuck this. She's sitting, nursing something weak claiming to be whiskey, and wondering if this place is really that shitty, or if she just got ripped off. )
Hey.
( The barkeep ignores her, and she raises her voice a little. ) Hey. You got something better than this shit?
WILD CARD.