I - Brain fry in a virus pan Today was a strange day. Nevermind the hangover from hell, or having to extract herself from her date’s bed at an unholy hour - no easily the strangest thing Mariko has ever seen is the flying paintbrush, dripping with deep violet paint waiting for her at the door.
For a moment she just stares at it, before beginning to stalk off. Clearly, this is some post-alcoholic binge hallucination. Either that or there was something worse than arsenic in that cocktail - regardless, she begins to stroll towards her apartment. She gets about half a block before the brush zips into line of sight again, circling her before hovering at eye level and turning to extend to her, handle first.
“O-okay…”
Mariko scowls a minute further, rubbing the bridge of her nose before squinting at the weird floating brush. Curiosity wins out over suspicion, and with a cautious grip, she takes hold. The paint brush takes off with such zeal that it slips her grip, making her trip suddenly and swear under her breath.
“This better be worth whatever the hell this is…” she grumbles, her second attempt to hold the strange thing resulting in being yanked to god-knows-where.
Which means she stops, just in front of you. Hi new friend.
"...Hey."
II - Got too high super cyber man [After getting the hang of this painting thing, Mariko wandered away from her new cohort. Partly because hangovers and paint fumes don’t mix, but also because she was not really keen on trying to adjust to this new development as strange as is was.
It was bad enough that she hadn’t really questioned going along with this unbridled insanity of this moment. Even worse - when she tried to examine why this felt so normal, the only thing out of place that she could recall was shooting someone’s ankle out. With a pistol. So solo examination it was.
It was only the strange horn-alert thing that got her attention quickly enough to notice the door of the fence prowling towards her.]
Oh, what the fuck!
[She sounds more exhausted than afraid, jumping back out of the range of makeshift plank arms and swearing violently about surreal stupidity.]
BONUS - Get me down, down, down Mariko scowls darkly at her phone, with half a mind to pitch it into oncoming traffic and just buy another one. She doesn’t like surprises and this entire day has been full of bullshit - which is why when she recognizes the Retrospec app, it actually makes her pause. The UI, the colors -- blue, she doesn’t remember blue being part of the app -- it’s all easy and familiar.
If I ask if Retrospec is on their bullshit again, I get the feeling I'm not going to like the answer.
Wildcard - Get me out of Trip City [Let’s have some fun. Hit my inbox or on wingedbeastie if you’ve got any ideas.]
Mariko Kawaguchi (ou: Motoko Kusanagi) | Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex
Today was a strange day. Nevermind the hangover from hell, or having to extract herself from her date’s bed at an unholy hour - no easily the strangest thing Mariko has ever seen is the flying paintbrush, dripping with deep violet paint waiting for her at the door.
For a moment she just stares at it, before beginning to stalk off. Clearly, this is some post-alcoholic binge hallucination. Either that or there was something worse than arsenic in that cocktail - regardless, she begins to stroll towards her apartment. She gets about half a block before the brush zips into line of sight again, circling her before hovering at eye level and turning to extend to her, handle first.
“O-okay…”
Mariko scowls a minute further, rubbing the bridge of her nose before squinting at the weird floating brush. Curiosity wins out over suspicion, and with a cautious grip, she takes hold. The paint brush takes off with such zeal that it slips her grip, making her trip suddenly and swear under her breath.
“This better be worth whatever the hell this is…” she grumbles, her second attempt to hold the strange thing resulting in being yanked to god-knows-where.
Which means she stops, just in front of you. Hi new friend.
"...Hey."
II - Got too high super cyber man
[After getting the hang of this painting thing, Mariko wandered away from her new cohort. Partly because hangovers and paint fumes don’t mix, but also because she was not really keen on trying to adjust to this new development as strange as is was.
It was bad enough that she hadn’t really questioned going along with this unbridled insanity of this moment. Even worse - when she tried to examine why this felt so normal, the only thing out of place that she could recall was shooting someone’s ankle out. With a pistol. So solo examination it was.
It was only the strange horn-alert thing that got her attention quickly enough to notice the door of the fence prowling towards her.]
Oh, what the fuck!
[She sounds more exhausted than afraid, jumping back out of the range of makeshift plank arms and swearing violently about surreal stupidity.]
BONUS - Get me down, down, down
Mariko scowls darkly at her phone, with half a mind to pitch it into oncoming traffic and just buy another one. She doesn’t like surprises and this entire day has been full of bullshit - which is why when she recognizes the Retrospec app, it actually makes her pause. The UI, the colors -- blue, she doesn’t remember blue being part of the app -- it’s all easy and familiar.
If I ask if Retrospec is on their bullshit again, I get the feeling I'm not going to like the answer.
Wildcard - Get me out of Trip City
[Let’s have some fun. Hit my inbox or on