Lapis Lazuli (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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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
"Rounder?"
The word is open, guileless.
no subject
"You're saying you... know me?"
no subject
. . .
Somehow it seems best not to mention that for the time being.
"From . . . a distance?" Unconsciously her arms come up in a cross, hands bracing at each elbow. "We haven't ever really met."
A pause. "You had hair growing out of your face, too."
no subject
"You, uh. You're sure it was me?"
Though he definitely knows he's older, he hasn't ever seen himself in his memory-visions, so he has no way to be sure. He doesn't want to assume unless it's confirmed.
no subject
"Yes."
no subject
His hand cups over his mouth. He's been looking for a way around it for a long time. Any explanation made more sense, it didn't add up. Maybe she's mistaking him for a relative, or an alternate version of him, or she's lying, or...
Or he's old.
He scratches under his cap, finding eye contact suddenly difficult. "Do you know what happened to us?"
no subject
She's been told to stay low. Is this staying low? How much are the captured ones supposed to know?
. . . She doesn't want to be a part of that -- keeping them in the dark.
She also doesn't want to risk the people she has come to know.
This makes answering his question so much harder. She's not looking at him either, eyes half-shadowed by her hair. Her shoulders hunch, stiffening upward as though bracing.
"I know . . . some things."
no subject
"I... who were..."
He keeps stopping before any questions get out--he's not sure how to ask what he wants to know. He's not sure he wants to know what he wants to know.
Greg's courage fails him, and he casts a glance around.
"It's not safe to talk." His security guard is likely to be lurking nearby. "Is there some way we can meet again, or...?"
no subject
She hesitates at his question. Avoids his eyes.
At least she should take the information. She can decide later what to do with it.
"Where do you stay now?"
no subject
no subject
More hesitation.
"I'll find you," she says at last. "Don't look for me. If you have to find me . . . go to the beach. Late. As late as you can. If I'm there, I'll find you."
no subject
"Thank you." He's able to look at her, for this. He really means it. "Whatever it is you're doing here, I know it can't... it... it means a lot."
no subject
She doesn't reply back immediately, her lips pressed together for a long moment.
"When he wasn't . . . like this," she says softly, "Steven . . . believed in me. I don't know why. I'm not . . ."
She doesn't finish that sentence, shaking her head quickly. "Just . . . protect him. Please. If you can. It's important. He's important."