ArchivedLogs:Vignette - Breaktime's Over: Difference between revisions
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| location = <XS> [[Library]] | | location = <XS> [[Library]] | ||
| categories = Morlocks, Mutants, Tatters, Xavier's | | categories = Morlocks, Mutants, Tatters, Xavier's, Vignette | ||
| log = A gray-faced mutant sits at a terminal in a school's computer lab, face illuminated in the pale glow of the flickering monitor. She stares boredly at the screen, fingers tapping away in a practiced ritual, paging to each of her usual sites in turn, trying to distract herself from a headache that will not go away, avoiding the dizziness standing up will bring. | | log = A gray-faced mutant sits at a terminal in a school's computer lab, face illuminated in the pale glow of the flickering monitor. She stares boredly at the screen, fingers tapping away in a practiced ritual, paging to each of her usual sites in turn, trying to distract herself from a headache that will not go away, avoiding the dizziness standing up will bring. | ||
Latest revision as of 14:42, 13 March 2013
| Vignette - Breaktime's Over | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia
|
2013-03-12 In which Tatters discovers what happens when she leaves the city alone for like three friggen days. |
| Location
<XS> Library | |
A gray-faced mutant sits at a terminal in a school's computer lab, face illuminated in the pale glow of the flickering monitor. She stares boredly at the screen, fingers tapping away in a practiced ritual, paging to each of her usual sites in turn, trying to distract herself from a headache that will not go away, avoiding the dizziness standing up will bring. Her travels bring her to a news site. Her eye narrows, and she sits up a little straighter, her frown quickly deepening. "Crap." With a 'baDUMP' an IM window opens of its own volition, interrupting her reading. She reflexively tabs away from it, then registers the sender and tabs back, staring at it as a trio of 'baDUMPs' dump further news into her lap. "Crap crap crap." Grayish fingers open a new tab, which quickly becomes a list of train schedules, then flip back to the IM window and start responding. As she types, she begins to change, her features growing hard and bony and her skin thick and leathery. With a grumble she signs off and rises unsteadily to her feet, then sets off towards the exit, hands firmly in the pocket of her borrowed sweatshirt. | |
