( jinx lost track of time hours ago. all that seems to comprehend to her is that it's nightfall and snow is really picking up. there's something within that's beckoning her to push on forward despite the conditions, to continue to bring misery to those who had wrong her since her time here. but her stomach is screeching out an alternative, and it's becoming harder for her to argue when strength is continuously leaving her. maybe taking a break won't be such a bad idea, she can always return to her havoc later. no need to do it all in one night, right?
who knows what time it is, again, it's late. and given the appearance of her home, all the lights are off besides one singular lamp (silco's study) -- which didn't mean too much. he could either be asleep, doing work, or waiting for her. but nevertheless, she maneuvers to the front door, briefly letting the breeze and rain of the snow rush inside the home with her. jinx shuts it quickly, stepping out of her snow coated boots and shrugs off her trench coat -- mixed with the blizzard and blood. still wearing her custom-made mask, she makes her way to the kitchen and flicks on the light switch for better viewing. the markings on both her hands grew since last seen, and jinx seems to care very little about its existence. it's almost as if they're not there at all in her prospective. his daughter unhooks her strap, the pistols thudding onto the counter, then turns to the fridge; rummaging around for a quick meal to snack on. her body is craving for something more than snack, it wants a whole course but eating late at night can lead to nightmares. and... she deals with plenty of that already. )
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branchandroot
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Date: 2024-01-13 12:21 am (UTC)who knows what time it is, again, it's late. and given the appearance of her home, all the lights are off besides one singular lamp (silco's study) -- which didn't mean too much. he could either be asleep, doing work, or waiting for her. but nevertheless, she maneuvers to the front door, briefly letting the breeze and rain of the snow rush inside the home with her. jinx shuts it quickly, stepping out of her snow coated boots and shrugs off her trench coat -- mixed with the blizzard and blood. still wearing her custom-made mask, she makes her way to the kitchen and flicks on the light switch for better viewing. the markings on both her hands grew since last seen, and jinx seems to care very little about its existence. it's almost as if they're not there at all in her prospective. his daughter unhooks her strap, the pistols thudding onto the counter, then turns to the fridge; rummaging around for a quick meal to snack on. her body is craving for something more than snack, it wants a whole course but eating late at night can lead to nightmares. and... she deals with plenty of that already. )