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Post by Aurelia Lien on Jul 7, 2010 21:26:08 GMT -6
When Aurelia woke up that morning, she sincerely thought that Hotpants might’ve finally gotten through that door and tried to take a stab at her life. Her head was absolutely pounding and damn it, morning tea was absolutely not going to fix this. After she had managed to crawl out of bed and get dressed without kicking something over, she took a brief glance in the mirror. Aurelia definitely didn’t need to; she already knew fairly well that she was a mess this morning. She went to her closet next. Yes, she didn’t keep her clothes in her closet, but rather in boxes and drawers that littered a wall of her attic-room in Reyes’ house.
The closet was for her personal weapons storage. Being a weapons master for SEG certainly didn’t come with too many perks, other then decent pay and a nifty title. One of those non-existent perks was personal storage space, so she had converted her closet into a room full of pointy, sharp, kill-y things. Without even looking, she went for her machete first, latching it onto her belt like she had done every single day since she was six or seven years old. The next part was what she paused at. Going through her variety of arms, all up and down the wall and some kept in some small cupboards, she wondered which would be used as a supplementary today. She came to her section of halberds and looked through those, before picking up her glaive and strapping it to her back with the specialized holster Reyes had sewn together on his rocking chair like an old lady. Aurelia wasn’t too particularly concerned over how awkward it looked or how out of place it seemed; as long as she could defend herself with it, it was okay. Downstairs she went, and in the kitchen she found a note taped to the fridge.
Aurelia,
I wanted to go and take Hotpants for a walk; she needs to loose some of that bacon around her belly, if you know what I mean. Watch out for Rondine, he’s somewhere because he certainly didn’t come with us. Breakfast is in the fridge, hope the microwave is okay.
Love,
Reyes
That made up the tiny portion on the top of the paper. There was a PS that filled up the rest of the front and the back of the paper as well, but she decided that was probably him rambling again and put the paper aside. Aurelia took the plate of breakfast from the fridge, at it without really knowing what it was, finished only half and put the plate on the floor for Michelangelo. The porcupine, immediately sensing that breakfast was served, scrambled over and ate the rest in a few bites. Michelangelo was probably the friendliest of all of Reyes’ pets. She cleaned up the plate and picked up the paper again to finally read that PS he left. Glad she did; he asked her to go to Diamond Plaza and pick up a few things.
Heading over to Diamond Plaza was easy enough, though she did get a few stares on the bus while it headed over there. Once at the plaza, she decided to kill some time before she actually picked up whatever Reyes wanted and headed back. She dreaded entering that house again if it meant Reyes wasn’t home and Rondine, disgruntled from not having Hotpants around, was going to attack her. Aurelia sat down on the lip of the phoenix fountain and wondered briefly if any of the remaining shifters were skilled enough to change into a phoenix. If a few of them were, everybody was screwed. Damn.
People walked by, some giving her odd looks. She dismissed it as them staring at her glaive; why wouldn’t they? It was big, intrusive and invasive of the peaceful space. If anybody of authority asked her about it, she could easily provide papers that told them she worked for SEG as a weapons master and she had permission to carry these things around.
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Post by Aurelia Lien on Jul 8, 2010 21:03:50 GMT -6
Aurelia’s headache had certainly died down a bit by now. She had been sitting at the fountain for a solid five minutes. Aside from the senseless clamor of the crowd doing their shopping, there was really nothing else that could make her ache worse. Thank heavens for that; if there was one thing Aurelia could definitely not deal with, it was handling a gun, or headaches. Damn it, by today’s standards, she was very old school when it came to her weaponry. Completely incompetent with a gun, but the master of arms you could stab, slice or cut with.
Among the other people, Aurelia barely paid much attention when a girl sat down across from her on the cusp of the fountain. She, like every single other person who walked by Aurelia every day in the thousands, wasn’t too special to look at. The only people she found interesting to look at were Reyes, purely because he towered over everybody and he was eternally smiling, and Aras; the way his messy curls fell around his face and complimented his hazel eyes just so was simply appealing.
Of course, there were a few people a day that made her turn her head, but mostly it was just Aras and Reyes. Reyes’ pets always elected a reaction from her, however, but damn it, those pets consisted of a rooster riding a pig, a googly-eyed boston terrier thing and a porcupine that puttered about the house while everybody ran from him. Don’t forget the plethora of aquatic animals he owned, including Angela, Flo and Irene the blacktip shark, purple striped jellyfish and Caribbean reef squid, respectively.
Aurelia shifted slightly in her seat, pulling her coat around her even though it was scorching out. Yes, she always wore a coat, no matter how hot it got outside. It made her feel more protected, even if she knew a flimsy coat would do nothing against a laser sword or one of those newfangled plasma guns they had these days. But her discomfort was stemming from the girl who took a seat across from her. Damn, if she was going to stare directly at her for long periods of time, at least she could be subtle about it.
Though she didn’t mind getting stared at, Aurelia would’ve preferred those to stared for any amount of time past a few seconds to be understated about it. This woman was looking directly at her, and it made her mildly uneasy. Even if the woman was staring at her glaive and not her directly, at least she could’ve glanced away once in a while. “Um…” She pulled her coat a bit tighter around her. Safer now, she told herself. Safer. “Can I help you?”
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Post by Aurelia Lien on Jul 14, 2010 13:41:49 GMT -6
The woman across from her froze; deer in headlights, a dead stop. She almost seemed surprised as to why Aurelia would confront her. Well, that was normal. Most people would walk away, or some would simply look somewhere else to ease that tension. Sometimes she worked like that too—influence of society and all—but not always. But the pause was what sort of got her. Unless she was trying to think up of an answer, there would be no pause at all, only stuttering.
"Sorry, I was just thinking, I'm a bit of a dreamer some days." Smile, the camera’s watching. "Actually, if I’m totally honest, I was also wondering where you got that scar... Not that it's any of my business." Nibble at the lip, look to your lower left; constructed image or sound. What did that mean? Well, it simply meant she was lying. Truth be told, Aurelia didn’t spend a good portion of her school years studying sociology and human psychology for no reason. Looking to their right would indicate a made up answer as their eyes are showing a constructed image or sound. Looking to the right would indicated a "remembered" voice or image, and thus would be telling the truth. Stay in school kids; you can learn to be just like Aurelia Lien one day.
“This thing?” Aurelia ran her finger along the line that lead from the corner of her mouth to just underneath her ear, following the scar along her face. Man, if only her family could see her now, they would throw an absolute fit. Since going to that boot camp out in the middle of nowhere, she had gotten considerably tanner. As Vietnamese culture went, the paler you were, the more beautiful you were considered. Aurelia had been porcelain before the whole ordeal.
“Yeah, this was thanks to my… My…” Now it was her turn to pause, and she switched back and forth from calling Aras her friend or sort-of-boyfriend or just wrap the thing up and call him her boyfriend. Admittedly it was an old scar, but she would never let him live this one down and if her family ever found out, would probably never let him go a second in a day without being sorry for it. “Um, thanks to my sort-of-boyfriend. Shot me in the face, he did.” She ran her thumb along the line again.
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