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Post by LYRA THORNE on Jan 24, 2016 20:29:14 GMT -5
the lambs are on the run  The ascent up the apartment complex can only be described as a near-death experience; eyes watching her every movement from the peekholes and the sound of screaming coming from the upper level, she is hyperaware that her presence is intrusive and unwanted. Lyra trains her gaze on the passing door numbers, attempting to ignore the pricklings of gooseflesh on her arms. "...102, 103, 105 — wait." Any ordinary passerby would most likely think Lyra a mumbling loony, standing in front of door 104, whispering numbers to herself. Then again, an ordinary passerby wouldn't be having a nice, pleasant stroll on the West End anyways. She raps a knuckle against the wooden door, each knock echoing throughout the corridor. "Gilbert Sullivan, open the door before I beat the piss out of it."@gingerfrost |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 25, 2016 2:11:53 GMT -5
There was a knocking on the door, he had this little, this little time to himself. Carynn had finally given him one day just to himself, the pyscho practically went nuts the day before. He could only do what he had to do to stay alive. The day was silent, minus the... Act... Of screaming... Down stairs... It was nice besides the... Smells... It was all part of the daily scene of life? A musical play had to be interesting right? He had taken a deep breath relaxing every inch of muscle when a rap knock came from the door. Instantly he whole body shiver with goosebumps as he jumped from the couch under a coffee table as if it offered protection.
He is suppose to answer right? What someone does with visitors. The whisper "Hello, who-whose there?" was so low the person behind the door probably didn't even hear him. A voice came out loud and clear making his skin crawl even worst, did he do it wrong? Was he not loud enough, was he rude? What did he do? His mind started coming up with excuses and bad reasonings as to why someone was at the door. HIs mind flashed back to the flash mob musical of a terrible old lady gaga parody he made police do... Was this place not punishment enough? Di-di-did they want revenge? Ma-ma-maybe it was Carynn's little... little.. family members? Possibly? maybe? Maybe she noticed the the little diamond ring he found on the ground after one of her little "gig meetings". He had no idea who it even belonged to, or even cared, just it was shiny.
Take a deep gulp he began slowly walking toward the door whole body shaking with fear of what this new in-mate had planned in his hell prison. "Co-co-coming..." He shouted loudly as he could fear obvious in his voice. He opened the door slowly, the small pathetic chain was there to keep him seperate from the new inmate of the group he was in. "Ye-ye-yes..." he asked voice still shaking with fear, eyes scanning at the woman in front of him. Who? He certainly never saw her before, why did this keep happening to him? All these randoms appearing...
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Post by LYRA THORNE on Jan 25, 2016 4:52:49 GMT -5
the lambs are on the run "Do you really think this is enough to keep you safe?" she murmurs darkly, pressing her body against the door and pushing it forwards until the chain grows taut. Considering the state of both the exterior and interior of the apartment, Lyra figures that it hasn't been maintained in a long while. A few well-placed kicks, and she has no doubt that the door will give away with little complaint. Coupling his anxious face through the gap and his weak stammers, it doesn't seem like it'll come to that. She leans in closer, speaking through gritted teeth. "I know what you did to that poor East kid — Wilbur or Wilson, whatever his name was — a fortnight ago, you fucking wanker. If you think that things are all hunky-dory after beating the shite out of the sorry sod, and taking his hermit crab collection captive, you're dead wrong."@gingerfrost |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 26, 2016 1:34:48 GMT -5
The mysterious woman stranger shouted dangerously with a question that had an obvious "this is a foolish mistake" tone. Wasn't like he had much choice, did he? What if like, she came for revenge or something? This was a Drama, worst was bound to happen right?! RIGHT?! Stupidly he could only think to answer, it was his duty... Duty, right? RIGHT?! People talked? Right? RIGHT?! "Ehh, I eer... Hoped? It...Gulped... Would?" he voice held slight gesture of joke and high pitch of hopeful desperation.
Mysterious Stranger, leaned in closer, looking... So... Damn. Why was she so cute? His face flushed red so unused to close female contact. Those were.. Those were... HIs mind lost total thought he barely caught on half what she said. Reality slapping on his face when he finally managed to look away at those rather large... large... Large... Ahh! No! His eyes squeezed shut, he answered with the usual shakey voice. "Cra-cra-cra-crab?" He wasn't even sure he read the woman right. Did the woman just asked him to eat out for crab? Wait no... WHAT?
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Post by LYRA THORNE on Jan 27, 2016 21:17:40 GMT -5
the lambs are on the run Under normal circumstances, Lyra would derive an immense amount of pleasure from his cold sweat. But she isn't so blinded by her desire to reach a quota of punished — properly punished — criminals to notice that she's staring into a face of confusion, rather than indignance. A moment passes, one she dedicates to searching for a shift of his eyes or a hidden edge. Finding nothing noteworthy, her lips tug downwards into a hard frown. For what it's worth, Lyra takes a step back. "Where were you last night? Around ten after eight?"It's in this cigarette smoke-clogged hallway, on the other side of a barely opened door, that she is completely at ease. She doesn't feel the comforting weight of a holstered gun at her waist or a silver badge representative of her authority over her left breast — but here, in this filthy apartment, Lyra doesn't feel like just another prisoner. Her mouth twitches, briefly. This is neither the time or the place to let herself be drowned in sentiment. "Let me in," she orders, leaving no room for argument. "Don't worry about any untoward motives, just let me in."@gingerfrost |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 28, 2016 3:29:32 GMT -5
He blinked, not sure how to respond to this woman. She only slowly formed a frown before asking a question he partly caught. Around Ten after eight? What was? What? Was this code for eating crab? He blinked several times more as it slowly dawned him what was going on. She was questioning him? She was asking him where he was? Wouldn't Carynn know that? Why would she need to know that? Wait where was he? He couldn't even recall, it seemed the woman had lost her patience she gave an order to let her in.
All he could do was react almost instinctively, "Yes! Ma'am" he shouted. Soon after without even realizing his own actions, he shut the door loosened the lock and let her in with a wide door swing. As soon as the motion was completed he leaned over slapping himself in the face, why did he just do that? Great, he was so used of getting bossed around it was almost instant to follow orders.
He gulped, what does one do now? How do you play hostess? What was he supposed to do? What did she want? What did she want to know? It the occurred to him her badge and she was possibly part of the authorities, they truly were still pissed at him... Maybe he could explain? "It-it wa-wa-was an ac-ac-accident... Ho-ho-honestly." his voice sounded similar to a whine of desperation and hope she would listen.
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Post by LYRA THORNE on Feb 3, 2016 16:44:50 GMT -5
the lambs are on the run Lyra hasn't met anyone so unabashedly innocent in her life. Maybe. if she were someone gentler, she would make an effort to soothe his nerves and quell his fears. Speak in softer pitches. Smile more. Of course, if she were someone gentler, she wouldn't be here in the first place. As if on cue, her fingers twitch at her sides, and Lyra feels the distinct urge to manhandle him anyways, despite being seemingly guiltless. It's the godawful stuttering, she thinks. Each faltering syllable that spills out of his mouth is just a reminder of how badly she fucked up this time. "I get it," Lyra finally snaps. "You didn't do anything wrong and you have no idea what I've been talking about for the past five minutes. I get it. Shut up and let me think."Most of her frustration is a result of her own folly, Lyra will admit that. She must have knocked on the wrong door, gotten off on the wrong floor, taken a wrong turn somewhere. It isn't the first time she's made an error in judgment, but that doesn't lessen the blow to her pride. Absentmindedly, she gnaws on her thumb, retracing her every step. "You didn't answer my previous question, so you better answer these next few," Lyra orders, pinning him with an inescapable stare. A beat passes and she tacks on a foreboding, "...adequately."Not waiting for an affirmation, she continues. "We're in the Cannery Docks, right? Room 104? And you're Gilbert Sullivan?"@gingerfrost |
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