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towerofanimus2013-11-04 11:40 am
provenworth) wrote in towerofanimus2013-11-04 11:40 am
Entry tags:
A Turk's Day is Never Done
Characters: [ou] Elena + OPEN
Setting: Various
Format: Brackets
Summary: Elena is doin' her Turk thing by training, and makin' herself a proper uniform before taking a breather at home.
Warnings: None yet.
[Floor 51]
[Elena was pretty decent with a needle and thread, able to close wounds and tears with little effort. Creating an outfit totally out of scratch was another thing, trying to find the right placements for different bits and pieces to come together. Add in the fact that the mannequins had an annoying affinity of taking away her machine and, well, you've got a very stressed-out Turk.
Anybody passing by would see her seated at one of the stations hunched over her machine. There's a jacket pinned and prepped on one of the mannequins, working on the stitching the inseam of the pants, uttering a creative string of obscenities.]
[Floor 39]
[Since her last training with Reno where they'd focused on incorporating her ballet background into her fighting style, Elena was determined to figure the best combination and integration of both styles into a single, powerful, fluid motion. With a metronome nearby, soundings its audible 'tick tick tick' at the predetermined speed, she's a series of movements that's part dancing, part fighting and all potentially lethal with the right speed.
Balanced on the ball of her left foot, her body turns, leg extended, twisting while bending at the knee and her upper body drops, foot kicking skyward. Hands then press into the mat and she's in a fast moving cartwheel before feet meet on the downward arch, body pushing up and she's changed into a back flip, landing solidly with knees bent, her stance wide, ready for the next movement. If anybody knew Capoeira, her movements would look pretty damn close to it.]
[Room 1-03]
[The little child was gone - the one called Wriggle - and she's not entirely sure if she's happy or sad about it. Elena had a special fondness for children and an even stronger hatred for the Tower that it would even bring them here. Siting on the edge of her bed, she's reading and re-reading the letter that Reno had left her. About wanting distance. She'd responded in kind - though she was beginning to wonder if she'd said to much in it, had put too much emotion into her words. She was trying to be strong for the both of them, but she could feel something was different. He was different, changing before her very eyes. Withdrawing. Or maybe that was just her overactive imagination.
Folding the paper, she laid it on the small bedside, eyes moving to the roughly made Turk uniform. It wasn't the expensive, professionally made suits she'd owned in the past, but it was hers. She'd feel good wearing the familiar, protective layers. She ought to probably make another for Reno, just in case. Maybe the kids too. It was something to do versus what she was doing now - listening for the opening and closing of his room's door.]
Setting: Various
Format: Brackets
Summary: Elena is doin' her Turk thing by training, and makin' herself a proper uniform before taking a breather at home.
Warnings: None yet.
[Floor 51]
[Elena was pretty decent with a needle and thread, able to close wounds and tears with little effort. Creating an outfit totally out of scratch was another thing, trying to find the right placements for different bits and pieces to come together. Add in the fact that the mannequins had an annoying affinity of taking away her machine and, well, you've got a very stressed-out Turk.
Anybody passing by would see her seated at one of the stations hunched over her machine. There's a jacket pinned and prepped on one of the mannequins, working on the stitching the inseam of the pants, uttering a creative string of obscenities.]
[Floor 39]
[Since her last training with Reno where they'd focused on incorporating her ballet background into her fighting style, Elena was determined to figure the best combination and integration of both styles into a single, powerful, fluid motion. With a metronome nearby, soundings its audible 'tick tick tick' at the predetermined speed, she's a series of movements that's part dancing, part fighting and all potentially lethal with the right speed.
Balanced on the ball of her left foot, her body turns, leg extended, twisting while bending at the knee and her upper body drops, foot kicking skyward. Hands then press into the mat and she's in a fast moving cartwheel before feet meet on the downward arch, body pushing up and she's changed into a back flip, landing solidly with knees bent, her stance wide, ready for the next movement. If anybody knew Capoeira, her movements would look pretty damn close to it.]
[Room 1-03]
[The little child was gone - the one called Wriggle - and she's not entirely sure if she's happy or sad about it. Elena had a special fondness for children and an even stronger hatred for the Tower that it would even bring them here. Siting on the edge of her bed, she's reading and re-reading the letter that Reno had left her. About wanting distance. She'd responded in kind - though she was beginning to wonder if she'd said to much in it, had put too much emotion into her words. She was trying to be strong for the both of them, but she could feel something was different. He was different, changing before her very eyes. Withdrawing. Or maybe that was just her overactive imagination.
Folding the paper, she laid it on the small bedside, eyes moving to the roughly made Turk uniform. It wasn't the expensive, professionally made suits she'd owned in the past, but it was hers. She'd feel good wearing the familiar, protective layers. She ought to probably make another for Reno, just in case. Maybe the kids too. It was something to do versus what she was doing now - listening for the opening and closing of his room's door.]
no subject
You're not, babe. You two were probably just runnin' around getting that candy... y'know, he saved my ass and dumped a ton of it in my bowl. The kid's gotten fast enough to keep up with me.
[There's a hint of pride in his voice, trying to dispel the sudden, uncomfortable feeling that she had seen right through his lie. Long hair... when did he get long hair again? Oh. Oh damn. That... was going to be hard to explain.]
I'm sure Xion's fine, she's right there if ya want to check. I can get Shion, and we can all go down to breakfast together.
not my best my brain doesn't want to brain
[One that told her she had to hurry, that she couldn't slow down. Collect as much as she could without question. Reno had. She hadn't. Both had ended up dead. What was the point of all that effort then?
She gives a heavy sigh, eyes turning upward at him when he kissed her forehead. An eyebrow raises and she gives an audible chuckle.]
That fast? I might have to see you both in a race before I believe it. But good on him, checking in on you. I came by once or twice but you weren't home.
[Its a question now of what was scarier: the fact that she saw right through the lie and wasn't reacting to it like she probably should or the fact that he was continuing the lie without any visible sign of guilt. Maybe the scariest thing was the way Elena was smiling. So sweet and so innocent, like there was nothing wrong in the world.]
That sounds like a good idea, I'm sure a little quality time would help calm all our nerves. [Hands move from her hips and her body turns slightly, pointing back at the door behind her.] Just give me a second to change back and then I'll go get Xion.
no subject
El... I'm sorry. ...I just-
no subject
[His hand around her wrist isn't wholly unexpected and, despite the internal anger that was being carefully held in check, more comforting than she cared to admit. She was getting good at the whole managing her facial expressions, because she has the look of somebody who is confused and unsure. The only tell that something might be off is the way fingers of her free hand plays with the fabric of her newly made jacket.]
What are you apologizing for? Go on and check in on Shion. Xion and I will meet you there in a bit.
no subject
[His tone is frustrated, warning. Not using the pet name he started calling her. He knew her as well as she knew him, and he isn't all that certain it is a facade, but he would prod at her regardless. If she wanted him to be open, she had to be as well.]
After that letter, don't you dare. If you want me to be honest with ya, you sure aren't doin' a good job of it yourself.
no subject
Its fine, Reno. Really. Besides, you're right. The kids need us more right now and as proper parents we need to check on them.
no subject
no subject
no subject
All right. I'll go rustle Shion up...
no subject
Don't be long. I'll be right behind you.
no subject