Setsura Yamaguchi | 山口 節羅 (
chichichi) wrote in
prismatica2020-01-13 01:23 am
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video, un: birdinthehand
I'm looking for my -- [ "leaf," wait -- no one but her and Lewin has any inkling what the hell that means, so, and smoothly for all that she sounds more than less on the urgent side ] -- Lightning. Iris... really gets away with him.
[ As though that explains everything. She glances at the camera. Her hair is utterly windswept, some of the feathers in it dancing as she walks the streets, her steps brisk, purposeful. Her nose? Red. She's been out for a while now, the black feathers of her collar tugged snug against her neck. Straight to the chase. ]
If you're from Earth, you may recognize him as American. Mm, he's about [ please hold, she's crunching this in her head ] one hundred and seventy-seven centimeters. [ She's certain. ] He's --
[ Here, that's what her hand says as she grinds to a halt and tugs the camera back so her audience can see. She makes an even cut through the air above and beside her, like she knows exactly where, how he fits with her. Like that helps anyone figure out anything other than the fact that she's short if they're attentive to her height against background details. ]
-- this tall, but he's not bulky or too slight. [ And she's stepping again, talking as she turns an ear in listening and scans the area with keen eyes. Holding little things back. ]
You might not be able to tell because he dresses like a hobo. I'm not exaggerating. There's holes and stains in his clothes and he doesn't care about fashion at all. Tee shirts, capris, boots -- you can find him in layers sometimes and his shoes won't be clean. If they are, it's not him.
He has... so much black hair and it's always so messy. [ But it doesn't sound like she minds? ] It's always in front of his eyes, so you can't see them most of the time. [ A glance. Look. ] I cannot emphasize how messy it is. It looks like he hasn't brushed it in a week, maybe ever. [ She's gesturing with her free hand, outlining a shape at her head now. ] Iris gives him these... bat ears. They're huge, about as big as his head put together, and they stick out a bit, like this. They're really furry! [ Who's excited? Fond?? Sobering a little. ] He's usually got this big smile or a grin on his face that'll show off a mouth full of pointy teeth now. His voice is a lot like his expression. It's big, real cheerful with a thick accent, Texan if that means anything to you. That twang is distinct from anything around here. [ She's fond. Oh! ] And he's got stubble. His face is unshaven, but there's no substantial mustache or beard. [ Yet. ]
Has anyone seen him? [ She gives the camera her full attention now, exhales a small cloud of white. Please, if you've seen her idiot hobo... ]
[ As though that explains everything. She glances at the camera. Her hair is utterly windswept, some of the feathers in it dancing as she walks the streets, her steps brisk, purposeful. Her nose? Red. She's been out for a while now, the black feathers of her collar tugged snug against her neck. Straight to the chase. ]
If you're from Earth, you may recognize him as American. Mm, he's about [ please hold, she's crunching this in her head ] one hundred and seventy-seven centimeters. [ She's certain. ] He's --
[ Here, that's what her hand says as she grinds to a halt and tugs the camera back so her audience can see. She makes an even cut through the air above and beside her, like she knows exactly where, how he fits with her. Like that helps anyone figure out anything other than the fact that she's short if they're attentive to her height against background details. ]
-- this tall, but he's not bulky or too slight. [ And she's stepping again, talking as she turns an ear in listening and scans the area with keen eyes. Holding little things back. ]
You might not be able to tell because he dresses like a hobo. I'm not exaggerating. There's holes and stains in his clothes and he doesn't care about fashion at all. Tee shirts, capris, boots -- you can find him in layers sometimes and his shoes won't be clean. If they are, it's not him.
He has... so much black hair and it's always so messy. [ But it doesn't sound like she minds? ] It's always in front of his eyes, so you can't see them most of the time. [ A glance. Look. ] I cannot emphasize how messy it is. It looks like he hasn't brushed it in a week, maybe ever. [ She's gesturing with her free hand, outlining a shape at her head now. ] Iris gives him these... bat ears. They're huge, about as big as his head put together, and they stick out a bit, like this. They're really furry! [ Who's excited? Fond?? Sobering a little. ] He's usually got this big smile or a grin on his face that'll show off a mouth full of pointy teeth now. His voice is a lot like his expression. It's big, real cheerful with a thick accent, Texan if that means anything to you. That twang is distinct from anything around here. [ She's fond. Oh! ] And he's got stubble. His face is unshaven, but there's no substantial mustache or beard. [ Yet. ]
Has anyone seen him? [ She gives the camera her full attention now, exhales a small cloud of white. Please, if you've seen her idiot hobo... ]
no subject
And risk Iris trying to drive you from between my fingers again?
[ Her grip on his hand tightens. There's more than one reason she wants to kick Iris in the dick. She can't be sure how many of the conversations he might have seen from her broadcast, but she doesn't mind repeating certain things. ]
I meant it. I'm not letting you out of my sight for a little while after this.
[ Because he is her Lightning. He's her leaf and he's been out of her sight too long. ]
no subject
no subject
Maybe a little.
[ "Maybe," now there's a joke and she realizes it, squeezes his hand with that word. There's really no "maybe" about it, a smile tugging at her mouth. ]
Are you going to complain?
no subject
no subject
[ She chirps. ]
Let's get going, then. I doubt Ranpo-san's expecting us to stick around long and I'm sure he'd like his room back.
[ And she'd like to be ho -- at the house with Lewin even if it's just for a little while. A squeeze, a tug, and they're on the move. The kitchen, where she'd left Ranpo with his modest array of sweets, is on the way out and she's chirped words -- a reiterated "thank you" for taking such good care of her Lightning and an assurance she won't forget a certain deal between them -- in passing, leaning into the arm of that hand she's holding and not at all sort of behind it given a certain cat boy's traits. (She's not scared!!)
It doesn't take long and they're back on the streets headed for their place. Setsura has been in this city long enough to have a well-developed idea of certain short cuts and she's keen about putting that knowledge to use. It wasn't that long ago that the city was crippled by a winter storm with the temperatures to match, but it won't take them long to reach their house and put the current temperature behind them, not that she's in the same sot of hurry she was hours ago. She's got her leaf in hand, after all. ]