Streets of Fandom, Wednesday Afternoon

[okteiviakom]

There was a ritual to preparing for battle. Putting on armor, applying stark dark lines of face paint, checking weapons. Octavia had done all of these things before heading outside for the second time today - she'd gone out earlier and promptly turned back for more weapons as soon as the reality of the situation had dawned on her - and she'd practically reveled in them. In her own, quiet way.

Yesterday, she'd shied away from mirrors because of the extreme radiation burn that had taken up most of one side of her face in her reflection.

Today, Octavia felt alive.

Today, she was patrolling the streets. Just like normal, except with more of a sense of purpose. As evidenced by the bright orange spatter on one side of her face, marring the edges of her warpaint, she'd already disposed of a couple of clowns by now, and she had no intention of stopping.

Sometimes, she dragged the tip of her sword behind her against the cobblestones as she walked, metal clanging against stone, calling clowns right to her.

Stealth was no good when you were out for blood.

[ooc: SO OPEN.]

Comments

[what_the_shock]

Miguel saw Rosa and swung down to land next to her. He was in his UMF outfit, yes; enjoy the view, Rosa.

"Do we know why the clowns are attacking?"

[died8yearsago]

She always, always did.

"Because they're evil murder clowns?" Rosa offered. "You're more than welcome to ask, but I'm pretty sure all you're going to get in response is creepy ass laughter and attempted stabbing. That seems to be their general motivation."

[what_the_shock]

"Yeah, pass. I'd rather just web them up enough they can't laugh or stab. Hopefully they'll be gone by tomorrow."

Or someone else would find them and stab them. Miguel wasn't so much for the stabbing himself.