Lapis Lazuli (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oceantier) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
interstellar55552016-02-06 09:21 pm
oceantier) wrote in interstellar55552016-02-06 09:21 pm
Entry tags:
Don't fall down when it's time to arise.
Who: Lapis Lazuli, OPEN
What: Multiple prompts
When: Early February. After ghosts.
Where: Locations different for each prompt.
Warnings: None.
Background: Lapis has gotten herself a job as a dancer for Pride Records. Shapeshifting used for a human appearance, so no blue showing.
A. Lost? - Open to anyone in Pride
The keycard is new, unscratched from passes through the machine. After exasperated explanation from the guard, she finally manages to turn it in the proper direction, checking in. It's hard to say if she really absorbs the torrent of directions that he gives her as far as where she's supposed to go for practice; she stares back at him with grave, dark eyes as he rattles them off, gives the slightest of nods, and heads off on her own, a map of the building in hand.
Thankfully, she came early, because over the next couple of hours, she can be found wandering areas of the building that are decidedly not the practice room she's been assigned to report to for her first day of work. She doesn't manage the residential areas, but it seems that she hits nearly every other hallway.
Probably a good thing she arrived early.
B. End-of-day - Open to anyone in Pride
Practices are done for the day -- at least the formal ones. The late sun slants through the windows as the city lapses towards darkness in last notes of shimmering gold.
The remaining inhabitant of one of the practice rooms hasn't bothered with the lights yet, paying little attention to the dimming of the walls around her. Music is on -- something soft, more rhythmic. She seems to have slipped into it like warm water, almost floating, letting it flow in and around her, absorbing her in its grasp. She dances, twisting, bare feet feather-light on the floor, hands and fingers tracing through the air.
The music builds; her body arches, leaps more powerfully than it should be able to manage, lands and twists into the next movement. She's paying no attention to the world around her, absorbed into the strike of her feet against the wood, the currents of air shifting against her skin. Note by note, she translates the music into physicality, each phrase given weight and meaning.
C. Ocean - Open to anyone
The beach is cold, especially this time of year and this time of day, and the tides are higher, the water thrashing against the shore. The moon is high and clear, washing the sands in silver light; the stars are bright in the darkness of the night sky.
There shouldn't be anyone out . . . but there is. A figure perches on a rock on the remaining ribbon of sand, watching the water sweep in and out.
This is the temporary home that Lapis Lazuli has found for herself. Without much need for sleep, the Gem can often be found on the shore -- or in a fairly deep indentation in the cliffs. If her skin appears blue . . . it's probably just a trick of the light, right?
D. Have another idea? Want interaction with Lapis, but none of these will work? PM or poke me on Plurk!
What: Multiple prompts
When: Early February. After ghosts.
Where: Locations different for each prompt.
Warnings: None.
Background: Lapis has gotten herself a job as a dancer for Pride Records. Shapeshifting used for a human appearance, so no blue showing.
A. Lost? - Open to anyone in Pride
The keycard is new, unscratched from passes through the machine. After exasperated explanation from the guard, she finally manages to turn it in the proper direction, checking in. It's hard to say if she really absorbs the torrent of directions that he gives her as far as where she's supposed to go for practice; she stares back at him with grave, dark eyes as he rattles them off, gives the slightest of nods, and heads off on her own, a map of the building in hand.
Thankfully, she came early, because over the next couple of hours, she can be found wandering areas of the building that are decidedly not the practice room she's been assigned to report to for her first day of work. She doesn't manage the residential areas, but it seems that she hits nearly every other hallway.
Probably a good thing she arrived early.
B. End-of-day - Open to anyone in Pride
Practices are done for the day -- at least the formal ones. The late sun slants through the windows as the city lapses towards darkness in last notes of shimmering gold.
The remaining inhabitant of one of the practice rooms hasn't bothered with the lights yet, paying little attention to the dimming of the walls around her. Music is on -- something soft, more rhythmic. She seems to have slipped into it like warm water, almost floating, letting it flow in and around her, absorbing her in its grasp. She dances, twisting, bare feet feather-light on the floor, hands and fingers tracing through the air.
The music builds; her body arches, leaps more powerfully than it should be able to manage, lands and twists into the next movement. She's paying no attention to the world around her, absorbed into the strike of her feet against the wood, the currents of air shifting against her skin. Note by note, she translates the music into physicality, each phrase given weight and meaning.
C. Ocean - Open to anyone
The beach is cold, especially this time of year and this time of day, and the tides are higher, the water thrashing against the shore. The moon is high and clear, washing the sands in silver light; the stars are bright in the darkness of the night sky.
There shouldn't be anyone out . . . but there is. A figure perches on a rock on the remaining ribbon of sand, watching the water sweep in and out.
This is the temporary home that Lapis Lazuli has found for herself. Without much need for sleep, the Gem can often be found on the shore -- or in a fairly deep indentation in the cliffs. If her skin appears blue . . . it's probably just a trick of the light, right?
D. Have another idea? Want interaction with Lapis, but none of these will work? PM or poke me on Plurk!
no subject
The water doesn't slink back all the way as it lies on the sand. Instead, some of it goes to meet him, spiraling and curling like a vine. It's alarming enough that Marty stops in his tracks, unsure of what this means. Is it a warning, or some kind of weird natural phenomenon thing? Marty is absolutely stumped right now, and he probably shows it.
Ahead, the girl has stopped. He can only watch as she turns, and from a distance Marty has a feeling she's worried. Not worried, scared. Of him. So he stands in place, and waves to her. Once, twice. Not moving forward, not moving away. What else can he do?
"You okay?!" Marty will call to her, but whether she hears or not is a different story!
no subject
The water itself stops as he does. It doesn't even leak back into the sand, as water should; it hovers at the surface, its silvery pattern intricate, like the shards of a shattered mirror. It almost trembles, holding, stopping just in front of his feet . . . but it's still.
"What do you want?" The voice belongs to the young woman, who is still twisted back towards him.
no subject
"I, I..." He tries to smile, but fails miserably. "I saw you standing by the water and wanted to make sure you were okay!" Marty shakes his head. "Listen, I'm not gonna hurt you or anything. I promise, okay?"
no subject
But this is her place. Her element.
And she also has no reasons to say that he won't.
She watches him. The water draws back, tracing back down its original paths, seeping back towards its source.
There's still tightness in her shoulders, obvious even from this distance. But however small, the fact that the water withdraws is still an easing of tension, if he can recognize it.
"What are you doing here?"
no subject
But he doesn't move. From a distance, he can see that she's incredibly tense. She had to have been one of those who went through what had happened the last few days, right? There's no other way. She seems to act how Marty's been feeling the past few days...only he doesn't go running out to the ocean, or make the water make swirly patterns on the beach.
"I can't sleep." He'd be pretty silly to deny it. "I've been having...problems."
Nightmares, aches in his wrist that won't go away, visions of people that he's absolutely sure are weird hallucinations. Maybe they're a side effect of his pain medications, but he won't say. "I didn't come here to stalk you or anything. Okay?"
no subject
". . . Problems?" She echoes the word without fully considering it.
no subject
Marty didn't want to make this about him; he wasn't the guy who made the water act all crazy, or anything. But after everything he just saw actually happen, he's not going to argue against her or anything. If going through his shit also means helping out this lady in some way, it'll all be worth it, right?
He pauses for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. Like he's almost sheepish, in a way. "Nightmares. Since, ah, it all happened. Y'know?"
no subject
So she follows up the question with another:
"Since . . . what happened?"
no subject
"...We got locked up for a few days. After we got caught helping ghosts." Okay, something bad about that word. It shoots a line of pain up his head, as if it was saying 'no! don't say that!' Weird, but he'll ignore it for now. "Didn't you...?"
no subject
She doesn't elaborate -- that she's not part of the record labels, or the towers. It doesn't feel wise.
Staying isn't wise either . . . but she can't quite bring herself leave.
"What do you mean . . . 'ghosts'?" Her brows furrow a little, close to anxiety -- or a frown. ". . . Who locked you up?"
no subject
Against better judgement, he continues. "There were ghosts. They, ah, talked to us." A part of Marty feels kind of silly for bringing this up. Another part of him is so incredibly nervous, it feels like he was just punched in the gut. If they find out he's talking about this more, he'll have two broken wrists instead of one. "We broke in to save..." What were their names? It's so foggy.
"I don't know who they were, but it-" He can't talk about it anymore. His brain tells him to shut up, because if he keeps babbling about it, the chances of them coming back are huge. So instead, he brings up his wrist that's wrapped poorly in a bandage. "They did this."
no subject
Very softly, "The ghosts broke your wrist? Or . . . ?"
no subject
How were they doing anymore? He kind of had to wonder about that. But he won't bring that up, not now.
Instead he swallows, recalling things that were a little too painful to retrieve. "They took me. I helped to open the vent, and I distracted guards..." It all floods back a little too quickly. "They took me. It was them."
If he keeps talking, they'll find him. His heart starts to beat a little too quickly. "Y'know?"
no subject
A tendril of water curls upward from the waves, crossing the space in between them. It winds around his wrist, the temperature cold and likely about as soothing as ice. It doesn't sink in; it just sits on the surface, cooling, lying over the joint like a gleaming second skin.
Lapis' eyes have softened, her attention on his wrist. "They're keeping you from telling me now."
It's a statement far more than a question.
no subject
When Marty looks up, she doesn't look as fierce. The way the water acts kind of proves it. But what she has to say does surprise him quite a bit. Marty looks down to his feet, then looks left and right. Just in case.
"Y-Yeah. I can't..." He bites down on his lip, and shakes his head. "I just can't."
She seemed to understand, though. That enough was relieving. "Y'know?"
no subject
Though not having even the mercy of her own mind . . . that's harder. She can have sympathy for that -- and a great deal of empathy for the rest.
"What is your name?"
i'm sorry if this was posted twice! dw said it didn't go through, but...
This lady wasn't a part of the brainwashing. She had no idea what he was talking about until just now. But she was a prisoner? Did she go through something like this before, or was just feeling sorry for him?
"...Marty." He's a little hesitant to say it at first. What would it matter, though? "McFly."
Nope, you're good!
"Stay. If you want. . . . Except don't tell anyone you saw me."
awesome, thanks!
But something keeps him there. His head tilts to the side, and he dares to take a step forward.
"Why? What's your name?"
no subject
"It's better if you don't know."
She turns again, wading into the ocean as though she means to go farther.