Marisa Kirisame (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
adropofjupiter) wrote2011-11-26 08:51 pm
adropofjupiter) wrote2011-11-26 08:51 pm
12th ☆
[A. Action 1125/1127 Taylor (Saturday Morning)]
[Marisa was heavy sleeper, but even she wasn't going to sleep through this. Bolting awake, knocking the rubble off of herself, Marisa stared wide-eyed at the devastation around her. She had only two thoughts right then: What they hell was going on and that she needed to get to Patchouli as fast as she could. So, she tried to call for her broom.
...nothing happened. Her brow furrowed and that's when she noticed it. Her magic was gone again. ALL OF IT. Her eyes widened even more. If her magic was gone, then so was Patchouli's. This was bad... very, very, bad. Patchouli was very sickly without her magic. With how hard breathing was for Marisa right then with the dust in the air, she couldn't imagine how hard it was for her girlfriend. So, she had to get to what was left of 340 Brady and hope to the gods that Patchouli was still alive. Panicking wasn't going to get her anywhere.
The witch picked through the remains and eventually found the stairs leading down. This was probably going to be the only time anyone was thankful she was such a packrat. So, she grabbed a beaten pack, tossed a few things from the basement into it, and grabbed a bed sheet, paint, shoelaces and a wooden pole. Once back up, she grabbed a few things from the wreckage before yelling next door.]
OI! CIEL! YOU ALIVE?
[B. Trekking Across Mayfield (Saturday/Sunday)]
[With a pack slung over her shoulder and a bed sheet banner bearing a sigil on a wooden pole, Marisa appears to be on a mission. She's scraped up and there's a tear in the skirt of her dress, betraying dried blood on her leg and bringing attention to a bit of a limp. Determined though she is, she's not going to completely ignore any other living person she crosses paths with.]
[C. Saturday Night]
[It's dark, but someone is still traversing through the wreckage. With a dim, old flashlight in hand, and the bed sheet banner bearing a sigil on a wooden pole that she's -definitely- using for some support, Marisa continues to pick her way through the rubble.]
[Marisa was heavy sleeper, but even she wasn't going to sleep through this. Bolting awake, knocking the rubble off of herself, Marisa stared wide-eyed at the devastation around her. She had only two thoughts right then: What they hell was going on and that she needed to get to Patchouli as fast as she could. So, she tried to call for her broom.
...nothing happened. Her brow furrowed and that's when she noticed it. Her magic was gone again. ALL OF IT. Her eyes widened even more. If her magic was gone, then so was Patchouli's. This was bad... very, very, bad. Patchouli was very sickly without her magic. With how hard breathing was for Marisa right then with the dust in the air, she couldn't imagine how hard it was for her girlfriend. So, she had to get to what was left of 340 Brady and hope to the gods that Patchouli was still alive. Panicking wasn't going to get her anywhere.
The witch picked through the remains and eventually found the stairs leading down. This was probably going to be the only time anyone was thankful she was such a packrat. So, she grabbed a beaten pack, tossed a few things from the basement into it, and grabbed a bed sheet, paint, shoelaces and a wooden pole. Once back up, she grabbed a few things from the wreckage before yelling next door.]
OI! CIEL! YOU ALIVE?
[B. Trekking Across Mayfield (Saturday/Sunday)]
[With a pack slung over her shoulder and a bed sheet banner bearing a sigil on a wooden pole, Marisa appears to be on a mission. She's scraped up and there's a tear in the skirt of her dress, betraying dried blood on her leg and bringing attention to a bit of a limp. Determined though she is, she's not going to completely ignore any other living person she crosses paths with.]
[C. Saturday Night]
[It's dark, but someone is still traversing through the wreckage. With a dim, old flashlight in hand, and the bed sheet banner bearing a sigil on a wooden pole that she's -definitely- using for some support, Marisa continues to pick her way through the rubble.]
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...Understandable. It should be... [A beat as she turns around to give the ruined landscape a scan.
Insert cardinal directions here out loud that are actually correct, because patrolling the town daily will, whether you like it or not, imprint the general layout of the place into your head. She knew the streets well enough to give an estimate.] Perhaps... [insert distance here; she travels by foot, and while she can't hop on anything anymore both because there isn't anything of altitude and due to her superhuman physical capacities being stripped, the distance is still easily calculable by memory alone.] If you walk at the average speed of 5 kilometers per hour, you should reach the environs in... roughly [time goes here :v Numerology = a crapton of math, so she got good at that too, though Roa won't get her gratitude for any of it.
She briefly closes her eyes, arms crossed.] It's the best approximation that I can give; they should be close. [As for the question, she opens her eyes again after a moment to look back at the blonde witch in the eyes.] Check up on the True Ancestor, I suppose. If she's lost her abilities, she'll be just as helpless as a child. I should stop by the Church after and see what's salvageable in the basement. There should be some medical supplies stocked, possibly clean changes of clothing as well.
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I suppose Arcueid won't really know what to do. I just hope she doesn't decide to go see... the drones. You know... [gestures at the fried one nearby.]
She doesn't need to see Shiki's face like that.
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A small sigh.]
You're welcome. Best of luck, though I can accompany you for some of the way. If I'm to leave immediately, we're headed towards the same direction.
No, she should understand the situation. If the planet is to die, this landscape would be seen by her again. But she will not know how to react to it right now, not when she no longer acts as the planet's will. She may wander off, but that would be without aim. It will however make her that much more difficult to locate... [Speculating by herself, she unconsciously raises an arm, hand clenched into a fist as she presses her index against her upper lip. On her face now, there is a discernible frown of concern.]
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[Marisa finishes the sigil and then ties the banner to the pole.]
Might as well get going now before the, uh, smell gets to me...
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Never mind, I'm sorry for rambling. I was thinking out loud; I just need to find her as soon as possible.
[Glancing back at Marisa, she nods.]
Covering your mouth with a cloth may help. It could serve as a makeshift mask, if nothing else.
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[She starts heading in the direction Ciel had indicated.] I figure moving will take care of it.
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But she'll tie a thin cloth around her mouth anyway. How much you wanna bet she'll chide again if Marisa doesn't do something similar?]
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Just because you hear yourself doesn't mean you actually listen, ze.
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eh.
Raising a fist to her mouth to cough once, she'll keep walking.]
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I got water, some canned food and opener, a sewing kit, steel wool and a lighter plus some tape and clean rags.
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...[She holds back a small sigh.] I didn't think of storing a lot of utilities [--more like you just focused on the guns, Ciel...], I suppose that's something to do once this particular case is over. There might be something at the Church, but as things are now, what could be found may not be worth the effort of getting there.
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