![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
[closed]
WHO: Ghost (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
badfeyth) & Lestat (perfectdevil)
WHAT: A glamrock vampire and an isekai protagonist walk into a shopping mall and lord only knows what happens next.
WHERE: District 2, the shopping mall
WHEN: Early September
WARNINGS: Extremely bad vampire jokes are a certainty, everything else will be warned for in comment headers as appropriate.
[Ghost has already thought of three vampire jokes, all terrible, by the time she disembarks from the subway terminal and makes the short hike from the station to the shopping mall. It's odd how there's really two things about it that hit nostalgic for her, in that: the thought of readying a complement of jokes for someone, and the atmosphere of the subway system itself. Of course they'd not had such things at the Agency — why would they, as contained and insular as it was — but after a solid decade of wood and stone and birdsong, it's nice to return to the childhood familiarity of smooth metal and disembodied voices directing one this way and that.
(More than once, she finds herself thinking about that questionnaire. Welcome to the City, please complete your orientation, and she can't help but wonder, Who are you? Did someone give you a name? Do you want one?)
Ruminations for another time, she decides. As it is, she finds a convenient bit of landscaping a short distance from the nearest mall entrance and takes a seat, letting her legs dangle with her battered leather satchel at her side as she examines the structure for any sort of distinguishing markings.
Shortly thereafter, a text pops up on Lestat's network device.]
I've arrived. I'm at the west entrance near the decorative hedge.
[There's a brief pause before another one follows, almost like an afterthought.]
Red hair.
[She says, with brevity, like it's something she's used to being identified by. And then, after another equally short interval, a third thought turns up.]
Joke: why do vampires make terrible artists? (Present company excluded, of course.)
badfeyth) & Lestat (perfectdevil)WHAT: A glamrock vampire and an isekai protagonist walk into a shopping mall and lord only knows what happens next.
WHERE: District 2, the shopping mall
WHEN: Early September
WARNINGS: Extremely bad vampire jokes are a certainty, everything else will be warned for in comment headers as appropriate.
[Ghost has already thought of three vampire jokes, all terrible, by the time she disembarks from the subway terminal and makes the short hike from the station to the shopping mall. It's odd how there's really two things about it that hit nostalgic for her, in that: the thought of readying a complement of jokes for someone, and the atmosphere of the subway system itself. Of course they'd not had such things at the Agency — why would they, as contained and insular as it was — but after a solid decade of wood and stone and birdsong, it's nice to return to the childhood familiarity of smooth metal and disembodied voices directing one this way and that.
(More than once, she finds herself thinking about that questionnaire. Welcome to the City, please complete your orientation, and she can't help but wonder, Who are you? Did someone give you a name? Do you want one?)
Ruminations for another time, she decides. As it is, she finds a convenient bit of landscaping a short distance from the nearest mall entrance and takes a seat, letting her legs dangle with her battered leather satchel at her side as she examines the structure for any sort of distinguishing markings.
Shortly thereafter, a text pops up on Lestat's network device.]
I've arrived. I'm at the west entrance near the decorative hedge.
[There's a brief pause before another one follows, almost like an afterthought.]
Red hair.
[She says, with brevity, like it's something she's used to being identified by. And then, after another equally short interval, a third thought turns up.]
Joke: why do vampires make terrible artists? (Present company excluded, of course.)