ArchivedLogs:Soft Focus
| Soft Focus | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2015-11-11 ' |
| Location
<NYC> Lower East Side | |
Historically characterized by crime and immigrant families crammed into cramped tenement buildings, the Lower East Side is often identified with its working-class roots. Today, it plays host to many of New York's mutant poor, although even here they are still often forced into hiding. Long, synthetic hair pours out from beneath the moth-eaten fabric of Deltressa's black-lace shawl. Reaching up, the woman adjusts the blue-black wig. She'd have picked a less flashy color, but beggars can't be choosers. The cut, with a chic straight-line bang, is also something she wouldn't have necessarily have leaned towards were circumstances any different. Hunched, the arachnid woman skitters to the corner of the alleyway just beyond Evolve. Still visible from the street, she peeks around. In a patchwork of fabric, she's quite clearly some sort of transient. Melinda is out walking with a large bag of groceries in her arms, another slung from one shoulder. She may also have a bat. Please do not notice said bat. She is wearing a pair of loose jeans that are well worn, with a sweater of mustard yellow over the top. The mild temperatures don't require much else for warmth. Her long hair is folded over a couple times and tied up at the back of her head, mostly to keep it out of the way. She pauses as she draws up under the lights near Evolve and inhales the coffee aroma drifting out onto the street. She lifts her freeish hand to wave before heading on. Spidery appendages restricted under layers of fake hair and fabric, Deltressa appears to be relying on senses that she's allowed to grow lazy. In fact, she's let a lot slack. It's been quite a while since she's wandered this far, or even dumpster-dived ...which is what she intends to do to fuel this little expedition. She'd be remiss, if she didn't at least attempt to investigate the state of things topside. Her body let's out a jolt as Melinda's hand movement, and her boot scrapes audibly against the pavement as she slides back a step in a cowering move. Even hunched, she's comically tall. Melinda turns her attention toward Deltressa when she hears the scrape of boot, her eyes widening in the dim light to assess the other figure. Her head tilts upward as her brows climb higher, but in the end, especially where she is, she simply gives a little smile and continues moving forward, heading toward home. Deltressa’s black eyes watch the human woman go. Too out of practice at being topside to produce anything even resembling a smile in return. Perhaps her mouth twitches, perhaps that’s just a figment of her own imagination. Either way, she slides backward into the shadows. | |
