[There are lots of places to hide out in the zones, lots of places that the runners consider hideout. Walls covered in graffiti inside and out, scattered with miscellaneous items hanging there and traffic varies depending on the area, depending on the moment. Music is prevalent and while it's not been as loud lately with the latest sweep from the city crawlers, doesn't mean that it doesn't exist when batteries are charged and outcasts of the desert are willing to share a tune. The Cinema's a relatively new pinpoint of activity and with the sandstorms rolling in from the east, it's got bodies here and there and it's with the storm that she rides in.
More and more she's prone to traveling on her own but when the speed of the weather picks up she knows better than to be caught out in it. It's enough to make her pick up the speed as she rallies to the nearest shelter. Scarf drawn up, helmet secure she rounded the building and racked her bike near one of the outer walls. The dust kicks up and pushes itself into every nook and cranny it can reach, dipping under the door frames and through cracks in the boarded windows. When she enters, the music meeting the air for that moment, it follows her in. Closing the door behind her, she pulls off her goggles as teeth reach to her gloves and yank them off by the finger as she pushes aside a loose board with her shoulder and enters into the center of it all.
Walking in, there are small clusters of people here and there--those brightly dressed Killjoys, those comrades. Familiar faces here and there but he's there; the Counter Curse. Their first run in had been more than eventful amongst the shots of blasters and wheels turning in the dirt, and since then she had seen him once or twice, words shared sparsely but he's sitting alone right now and so she moves towards him. Hand into one of her pockets, she's pulling out a near empty carton of cigarettes and then sinking down heavily into the seat next to him without a word.
A sideways glance and she flips open the top, holding out the case to him.]
[ Curse has been taking this as a pit stop of sorts, stopping for a night or two while the sand dies down. It's not like he really has anywhere to be, so he's hanging around, making connections, looking for familiar faces. It hasn't really been the same since coming back - not with him gone - but he's trying to make the best of it, trying to get back into the sway the way Ghoul would have wanted him to -- the way Ghoul always did.
He's got his feet up on the back of the seat in front of him when someone drops in to his side, and his eyes hit the carton before the face of the 'joy offering them. He's already reaching for one when he realizes who it is. ]
[He takes one from the case and she draws it back, taking up another along with the lighter that's nestled inside. At the words, a small smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. Slipping the cigarette between her lips she lights up before holding the flame to the other.] Yes, yes.
Here I am, the magic of the storms has forced me off the roads. [The smoke catches the air, drifting out.]
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no subject
More and more she's prone to traveling on her own but when the speed of the weather picks up she knows better than to be caught out in it. It's enough to make her pick up the speed as she rallies to the nearest shelter. Scarf drawn up, helmet secure she rounded the building and racked her bike near one of the outer walls. The dust kicks up and pushes itself into every nook and cranny it can reach, dipping under the door frames and through cracks in the boarded windows. When she enters, the music meeting the air for that moment, it follows her in. Closing the door behind her, she pulls off her goggles as teeth reach to her gloves and yank them off by the finger as she pushes aside a loose board with her shoulder and enters into the center of it all.
Walking in, there are small clusters of people here and there--those brightly dressed Killjoys, those comrades. Familiar faces here and there but he's there; the Counter Curse. Their first run in had been more than eventful amongst the shots of blasters and wheels turning in the dirt, and since then she had seen him once or twice, words shared sparsely but he's sitting alone right now and so she moves towards him. Hand into one of her pockets, she's pulling out a near empty carton of cigarettes and then sinking down heavily into the seat next to him without a word.
A sideways glance and she flips open the top, holding out the case to him.]
no subject
He's got his feet up on the back of the seat in front of him when someone drops in to his side, and his eyes hit the carton before the face of the 'joy offering them. He's already reaching for one when he realizes who it is. ]
Well hey hey, look who's here.
no subject
Here I am, the magic of the storms has forced me off the roads. [The smoke catches the air, drifting out.]
Been keepin' busy?