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tampered2006-11-01 06:17 pm
kittyjones.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-11-01 06:17 pm
(no subject)
When; October 30th, evening.
Rating; PG-13
Characters; Kitty Jones (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kittyjones), Faye Valentine (glock30)
Summary; Kitty heads over to Faye's place, to give a little medical attention and a whole lot of sarcasm.
Log; It was getting late. The sun was beginning to fade away into the last quiet night the City would have in the month of October. Tomorrow was Halloween, and Kitty had no doubt the streets would be filled with... well, she wasn't entirely sure what they'd be filled with. One could never tell in the City. But her mind wasn't really on candy and costumes.
It really wasn't on candy and costumes.
It wasn't far to walk, Building 8 was right next-door to her own block, but Kitty was in no mood to dawdle. She worried her bottom lip furiously with her teeth, and clenched her hands into fists. She hurried along the streets, not running, but walking at a brisk, fast past that seemed to warn everyone to get the hell out of her way. Her satchel was hastily slung over one shoulder, one buckle not secured in haste, and if a person had walked past her they could hear various thing rustling and clinking within it.
Whilst she was terrible at keeping up with the food shopping, for some reason Kitty was always able to keep a full medicine cabinet. She'd been almost paranoid, preparing for every pain-related eventuality, ever since she... she'd been...
Kitty shook her head. No point thinking about that now. That wouldn't help.
"She better not be drunk," the girl muttered under her breath in an attempt to distract herself. She was, of course, Faye. Faye who had been acting her normal annoying, sarcastic, far too big for her boots self until she let slip that something was... wrong. Faye has said something about a need for First Aid, and for some things to be dressed. Which implied wounds. Which implied something had caused the wounds. Which implied something, whatever the hell it was, had attacked Faye. What if she was -
Again, Kitty shook her head. Wouldn't help. In the slightest.
She was at the apartment now, coming up to the door, and pausing for a moment to compose herself. If she walked in looking like she did now, all flustered and windswept, she'd never live it down from Faye. Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, she straightened the sleeves of her coat and smoothed back her hair with one hand, before knocking on the door. She hoped the knock was brisk, yet casually. If knocks could really be measured in such ways. Probably it was just your average knock.
"Knock, knock, Valentine," she called in a voice somewhat filled with false cheer.
Rating; PG-13
Characters; Kitty Jones (
kittyjones), Faye Valentine (glock30)Summary; Kitty heads over to Faye's place, to give a little medical attention and a whole lot of sarcasm.
Log; It was getting late. The sun was beginning to fade away into the last quiet night the City would have in the month of October. Tomorrow was Halloween, and Kitty had no doubt the streets would be filled with... well, she wasn't entirely sure what they'd be filled with. One could never tell in the City. But her mind wasn't really on candy and costumes.
It really wasn't on candy and costumes.
It wasn't far to walk, Building 8 was right next-door to her own block, but Kitty was in no mood to dawdle. She worried her bottom lip furiously with her teeth, and clenched her hands into fists. She hurried along the streets, not running, but walking at a brisk, fast past that seemed to warn everyone to get the hell out of her way. Her satchel was hastily slung over one shoulder, one buckle not secured in haste, and if a person had walked past her they could hear various thing rustling and clinking within it.
Whilst she was terrible at keeping up with the food shopping, for some reason Kitty was always able to keep a full medicine cabinet. She'd been almost paranoid, preparing for every pain-related eventuality, ever since she... she'd been...
Kitty shook her head. No point thinking about that now. That wouldn't help.
"She better not be drunk," the girl muttered under her breath in an attempt to distract herself. She was, of course, Faye. Faye who had been acting her normal annoying, sarcastic, far too big for her boots self until she let slip that something was... wrong. Faye has said something about a need for First Aid, and for some things to be dressed. Which implied wounds. Which implied something had caused the wounds. Which implied something, whatever the hell it was, had attacked Faye. What if she was -
Again, Kitty shook her head. Wouldn't help. In the slightest.
She was at the apartment now, coming up to the door, and pausing for a moment to compose herself. If she walked in looking like she did now, all flustered and windswept, she'd never live it down from Faye. Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, she straightened the sleeves of her coat and smoothed back her hair with one hand, before knocking on the door. She hoped the knock was brisk, yet casually. If knocks could really be measured in such ways. Probably it was just your average knock.
"Knock, knock, Valentine," she called in a voice somewhat filled with false cheer.
no subject
Kitty thought it had been a long enough rest. Time to move on. She hated to disturb the flesh anymore, wanted to just leave it be, but it wouldn't do to leave the cuts open. So she so produced some clean bandages from her bag, slightly starched and stark in their whiteness. If she could wrap Faye up in this, then you wouldn't be able to see the cuts anymore, not for a little while. Hidden away, and protected. Just a few light strips of material could give the impression of her back being flawless once more. Until the strips were removed, of course. But never mind about that now. Carefully, she began to wrap them around Faye, doing (if she did say so herself) a far better job than the other woman had done initially on her own.
Not that she could really blame her.
"Torturous? Agony? In this present instance, I'd define them as over-exaggeration," she quipped back, providing verbal distraction once more. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Faye's hand clenched hard on the bottle, her knuckles showing through her skin, bone pale as any of the bandages. "Hey," she spoke gently, placing her own hand on top of it to stop it shaking, "be careful. I'm going to fix that hand up in a minute, all right? Just be careful with that bottle. You could break it, and then there'd be no more whiskey, and think how terrible that would be."
She watched Faye cautiously as the woman fell silent after her little mockery of a laugh, Kitty wondering guiltily if she'd said the wrong thing in asking her about her home. She knew it was always awkward when people asked her. She never had a single idea of what to say. And now Faye was... hold on a minute. Was that a... Yes. Yes, it was. Faye giggled. Faye Valentine just giggled. What the flying Jesus is going on here? Good God, the poor woman really was drunk.
Of course, Kitty wouldn't take advantage of her in her weakened state. Of course not. She was the perfect gentleman, in all but gender. "All right then, who did you know? There was your little ginger monkey of a computer genius, and...? Was there anybody... nice?"