free artwork time!

[electro_kinetic]

Noriko is parked on the couch after hauling herself downstairs with Remy's help: she's currently very grateful she has a comfortable and oversized couch, because the sleeping loft thing is not going to happen. So now that she's parked herself there with food and drink (seaweed cracker-sriracha pea-sesame stick snack mix and tea), a podcast to listen to, and a set of tiny war engines to build... Well.

She snags a passing rat and soon after has a cup of Sharpie markers and a sign out on the table inviting people to sign her cast. There's plenty of real estate, so to speak: it's a full leg cast, extending from her mid-thigh to her toes.

Comments

[oldmancreed]

He's not overly social, but at least she's someone he's met before. And it looks like she's got an interesting story to tell.

"You step on the wrong side of someone, kid?"

[electro_kinetic]

"More like they stepped on the wrong side of me," she says. "Got ambushed outside my door. Broken leg in the places, dislocated wrist, cracked ribs, and a concussion."

She sounds thrilled.

[oldmancreed]

"You kill'em?" Cause that's the only way they should be left.

[electro_kinetic]

"Nope," she replies, crunching on a handful of snack mix. "Out of four, one has a burned hand and probable nerve damage up his arm, another has a broken nose, and they're probably all dealing with corneal flash burns."

She can kill people. And almost did there. But she didn't.

[oldmancreed]

Anyone can kill people. They just have to try.

"Sounds like you got worse off."

[messwiththebest]

"You seem trapped, amiga," Sombra says, draping herself on the arm of the couch and reaching out to steal some snack mix.

"That is always an unfortunate fate."

Sombra, it must be said, has a long swoop of purple-tipped hair on the right side of her head, a shaved left side (implanted with cybernetic circuitry), and a pink-and-purple coat that meshes well with her bright blue leggings. Her gloves and machine pistol match that, as does her make-up. And, oddly enough, the dark violet of her eyes.

[electro_kinetic]

Noriko can appreciate Sombra's fashion! And thus, she can forgive stealing some snack mix. She herself has sacrificed a pair of black skinny jeans (which are now shorts on one side) and is wearing a dark purple tunic with grommets seemingly everywhere.

"Oh, only a bit. I can get out, I just...don't want to," he says, shoving her own brightly blue hair out of her face. (Now, she thinks, might be a great time to try that pixie cut.) "I dig the hair."

[messwiththebest]

"That is because you have good taste," Sombra says, only smirking a little bit.

"I have heard tell of the magical healing feats of this place."

She waves her hand at Noriko's broken bits. Particularly the cast.

"Did you get here too late to take advantage of it? Or has it been lies this whole time?"

The horror!

[electro_kinetic]

"I got here after I got the cast," she says. "Sadly. After it's more or less set, I'm gonna take them up on it again. See if it'll help."

She's really....well, she won't say pissed off that she missed out on the bone mending, but she ain't happy about it. Sadface.

"Meanwhile, I have sharpies and no artwork."

[messwiththebest]

"That is a travesty," Sombra says, resting one hand over her heart in a dramatic gesture of compassion.

"If you will trust a stranger to draw all over your leg, I believe I can help with this matter!"

[iprotectyou]

Baze, armorless, is seated at a nearby table, using a pneumatic graver to etch designs into the larger barrel--the one meant to shoot the metal quarrel--that he forged himself for his lightbow. A sweating pitcher of ice water rests near his left elbow along with two glasses, one of which is full.

He picks up his project to take with him as he wanders over to Noriko.

"Hoi, Noriko! May the Force of others be with you! That looks uncomfortable. Why are you asking people to sign your cast?"

[electro_kinetic]

She'd join him and make this easier on Baze, but mobility is kind of an issue, and she still sucks on crutches.

"It's a common thing in my world," she says. "You're going to be wearing this fiberglass cast for a long time, it might as well look cool. And a lot of people who are used to being active find themselves depressed when they can't be, and so friends will write something or sign their names, or draw a picture to cheer the person wearing the cast up."

Come draw something on her cast, Baze.

[iprotectyou]

Friends, huh? Baze isn't so sure that they are friends. But sure, he can draw on her cast. He sets the barrel and the pneumatic graver down on the table and picks up the markers. Baze has never been the best artist, but he draws a particular stick figure: a blue-haired girl, with a cast on her leg and a smile on her face, flexing both her arms.

"So, how'd you break your leg?"

[electro_kinetic]

Well, friends, acquaintances, enemies who happen to be sneaky enough...you get the idea. She tilts her head to watch him draw, carefully keeping her leg from shifting or turning, and smiles just a tiny bit.

"It got broken for me," she answers. "Four guys with shitty attitudes, heavy-tread boots and a steel bat." She ended up with a broken leg, cracked ribs, a dislocated wrist, bruised kidneys and a concussion.

Yay.

[iprotectyou]

Baze's eyes widen, and he pauses in adding muscles to the stick figure.

"What? That's awful. Are you--well, clearly you're not okay, but... wow. Welp. Did they attack you because you're a mutant?"

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric watches her talk with other people, waiting till she's free before coming over to her.

It's been a while and he hopes there isn't still bad blood after all these years but his hesitation indicates he's happy to go if his presence is unwelcome.

"That looks dreadfully uncomfortable. Is there anything I can do to help?"

[electro_kinetic]

Well, she was never angry with Sinric for anything that happened, and certainly she's not thinking of it now: she just shrugs, looking up from one of the machines she's building (a tiny ballista) when he comes up to talk.

"It is. But there's not a lot of comfort involved with broken limbs at all? And it could be worse. It's just that I had it cast before I came here."

[thewidewideworld]

"I noticed you were asking others to decorate it for you. May I?"

[electro_kinetic]

She glances at him, and at her cast--still loads of free space there--and nods, shrugging. "Sure? I mean it wasn't open for anyone in particular, whoever wants to sign it can. Just use the pens there, they're permanent ink and won't smear off."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric sits at her foot, considering the tips of each pen and their colour. After some thought, he takes up a couple of different colours and starts.

He's no great artist but he is quite a calligrapher. He weaves a flowing phrase in the Persian language around an angular Norse rune.

[callmegambit]

Remy returns with parmesan crackers and grilled chicken fingers and settles near her, planting a kiss on her temple as he passes.

"How goes the signing, chere'?"

[electro_kinetic]

That face she just gave you is doing an incredible job of highlighting how young your intended really is, Remy.

Full-on pout, right there.

"I have never been more tired of being still than I am right this moment," she says, letting her head fall back and to one side so she can look at him. "I want to move and these crutches suck and I can't get used to them."

[callmegambit]

Such pout. He does what any sane man would do. Kisses her pout, several times. And possibly her neck.

"You will get through it. And they do, and you will get used to it." He smiled softly, eyes warm.

[electro_kinetic]

She snorts, a soft huff of breath, and lets her head fall back against the wall.

"I'm a stable as a baby giraffe," she says.

[callmegambit]

Maybe more so." He grins at her, one hand gently on her side. Just a touch, because he likes touching her.

"But you will get used to them."