Post by Katpride on Sept 27, 2022 23:13:45 GMT
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The nights are getting colder as the city prepares for winter. Most of the time the weather can’t seem to make up its mind on if it wants to be seasonally appropriate or not, but tonight dark clouds gather over the city, threatening rain. Griffonage pulls her coat collar tighter around her neck as a cool breeze hits her at just the right angle, goosebumps rising on the back of her neck. She turns her face away from the breeze and spies her braid flying out, droplets from it flicking out over the rusted metal of the fire escape.
It’s going to be a hell of a storm. Maybe she should’ve stayed home tonight. She could’ve put on a movie or something, drawn the blinds down and popped popcorn, turned the volume up in case it starts thundering. Annabelle goes wild for the garlic-and-pepper seasoning, you’d think she never put spices in popcorn before. Maybe she could even try putting M&Ms in it this time.
Distracted as she is by thoughts of a warm apartment, friendly company, and a terrible movie, Griffonage almost misses the flicker of movement in the alleyway across the street. Some part of her brain catalogs it and pushes the Venus-thoughts aside to make room for hero-brain (patent pending). She sits a little straighter, peering into the gloom with her eyes narrowed behind the blank lenses of her mask.
It’s easier to compartmentalize those things now, after months of practice. She can think Annabelle wouldn’t be home anyways, she’s got her… what was it, some kind of part-time job?, and then let the tangent fade away as her focus narrows into creeping down to ground level as quietly as possible. She’s got some measure of stealth before she starts throwing the paint around, now, at least. A good surprise head start is nothing to be scoffed at.
She just hopes that she gets back in time to get a decent amount of sleep. Class starts early tomorrow; the 8:30 chemistry section had been the only open spot she could find, and it is so much easier to dip into the university's supplies than to try to find materials on sketchy websites and work it through proxies.
Argh, hero time. She can daydream about chemical blends later. She blinks hard and angles just barely around the corner in the hopes of catching sight of whoever’s skulking around in a dark alleyway. The business here had their light smashed a day or so ago, and hasn’t yet replaced it.
Wait. How does she know that? Griffonage looks up at the building again, color draining from her face when she finds she recognizes it. She’s been here before. For take-your-daughter-to-work day, however long ago. Oh please let this be a coincidence. Let her mother not actually be in the office. Let it just be a mugging or something simple, with a totally random location.
The nights are getting colder as the city prepares for winter. Most of the time the weather can’t seem to make up its mind on if it wants to be seasonally appropriate or not, but tonight dark clouds gather over the city, threatening rain. Griffonage pulls her coat collar tighter around her neck as a cool breeze hits her at just the right angle, goosebumps rising on the back of her neck. She turns her face away from the breeze and spies her braid flying out, droplets from it flicking out over the rusted metal of the fire escape.
It’s going to be a hell of a storm. Maybe she should’ve stayed home tonight. She could’ve put on a movie or something, drawn the blinds down and popped popcorn, turned the volume up in case it starts thundering. Annabelle goes wild for the garlic-and-pepper seasoning, you’d think she never put spices in popcorn before. Maybe she could even try putting M&Ms in it this time.
Distracted as she is by thoughts of a warm apartment, friendly company, and a terrible movie, Griffonage almost misses the flicker of movement in the alleyway across the street. Some part of her brain catalogs it and pushes the Venus-thoughts aside to make room for hero-brain (patent pending). She sits a little straighter, peering into the gloom with her eyes narrowed behind the blank lenses of her mask.
It’s easier to compartmentalize those things now, after months of practice. She can think Annabelle wouldn’t be home anyways, she’s got her… what was it, some kind of part-time job?, and then let the tangent fade away as her focus narrows into creeping down to ground level as quietly as possible. She’s got some measure of stealth before she starts throwing the paint around, now, at least. A good surprise head start is nothing to be scoffed at.
She just hopes that she gets back in time to get a decent amount of sleep. Class starts early tomorrow; the 8:30 chemistry section had been the only open spot she could find, and it is so much easier to dip into the university's supplies than to try to find materials on sketchy websites and work it through proxies.
Argh, hero time. She can daydream about chemical blends later. She blinks hard and angles just barely around the corner in the hopes of catching sight of whoever’s skulking around in a dark alleyway. The business here had their light smashed a day or so ago, and hasn’t yet replaced it.
Wait. How does she know that? Griffonage looks up at the building again, color draining from her face when she finds she recognizes it. She’s been here before. For take-your-daughter-to-work day, however long ago. Oh please let this be a coincidence. Let her mother not actually be in the office. Let it just be a mugging or something simple, with a totally random location.