A TRAIN COMES INTO THE STATION.
You wake up on a train.
Your phone is buzzing. It's in your pocket, in your hand, on the seat next to you. It's a normal phone, and you're on a normal train car. One of the lights flickers, a little further down. The world is very quiet. It feels like you're right where you're meant to be. On the phone's surface is a white screen and the words—
WELCOME TO THE CITY. BEGIN ORIENTATION?
▶ NO
Please take a moment to complete your orientation.
Once you're finished, the subway doors slide open to let you out onto the train platform. To your right, the platform continues on and eventually ends; to the left is a set of stairs that will lead you up into the station itself. The platform is quiet, clean, empty—there's no one else around, and the only sounds you can hear are your own footsteps, your own breaths, and the occasional faraway sound of a creaking pipe or rush of air. The train you disembarked will stay there as long as you do, its doors still open, until you finally decide to venture up into this new locale.
As you make your way up the stairs to your left, you find yourself in the belly of City Hall station. The station is large, a sprawling underground mini-metropolis of corridors and storefronts. Here, you may find others like you, freshly-arrived city residents from other realms (or even your own). There is also a subway map, which will give you an idea of the layout of the neighborhood, and ticketing machines, which can currently only be used to buy tickets to a handful of stations located on lines 1, 2, and 9.
If you're hungry or in need of any kind of supplies, there are plenty of storefronts inside the subway station as well—snack stands, convenience stores, restaurants, clothing stores, a pharmacy, and a variety of empty shops that may or may not have ever been in use. Everything is unlocked, and you can take whatever you need.
Characters may stay on the train platform indefinitely, and may re-board and re-disembark from the subway as many times as they like, but the train will not depart nor will the doors close. Once they go up the stairs into the train station, they may hear the train doors closing and the train departing. Another train will not arrive, no matter how long the character waits. Only once they come up the stairs into the station itself may characters encounter their fellow newly-arrived residents and take advantage of what the city has to offer.
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WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD.
The station is located in the city center. It has three major exits that lead to areas of interest in the district, but there are several other smaller exits that lead in other directions around the neighborhood. You are welcome to use any of them, but may find the north, southwest, and east exits to be the most welcoming.
TO THE NORTH
The northern entrance to the station leads up into the sunlight and puts you out in a brickwork plaza. There's a modest building in front of you, three or four stories of stone with a welcoming facade. There's a sign above the entryway—it says City Hall. You may be tempted to explore, if you're interested in learning more about the city and how it functions, but prepare to find yourself disappointed—the folders in the records rooms are full of empty, blank sheets of paper, and the logbooks and balance sheets are similarly devoid of information.
Immediately to the southwest of City Hall, you will find a small building that houses the tourist information kiosk. It looks welcoming, with an inviting glass facade and a sign above the entryway announcing it as the "TOURIST CENTER." It's a humble building with a receptionist's desk on the back wall opposite the entrance, empty magazine shelves lining the side walls, and a few spinning brochure racks full of blank pamphlets. Anyone is welcome to peruse the tourist literature, though they won't offer much information, being primarily filled with pictures of the surrounding area—City Hall, the park, a statue garden, and the surprisingly heavily-featured cemetery. There are a few sentences sprinkled throughout about basic offerings of the city, such as apartment complexes and office buildings, as well as a few maps with the same limited scope as the larger version on the wall behind the receptionist's desk.
The main feature of the tourist center is the interactive kiosk installed dead in the center, right in the middle of a few rows of uncomfortable chairs that fill the small room. It's noticeably in the way of any would-be foot traffic through the tourist center, and something about the technology seems a little more modern than the computer behind the desk or the landline phone on the wall. The kiosk is a tall silver rectangle, about average adult height, and the upper half is a screen welcoming visitors to touch it to activate the kiosk. If you were to touch it, the screen would come to life with simple dialogue inviting visitors to ask it their questions.
However, residents should note that the kiosk is only programmed to assist with exploration within the available areas of the city. It may not be able to answer every question, and tampering with the kiosk may result in unreliable or inaccurate answers!
TO THE SOUTHWEST
The western exit of the station takes you up into a city park, lush and green with a very light fog still hanging about the trees. There are lampposts on the walkways and benches where you could rest, and plenty of flora, although you can neither see nor hear any signs of animal life. You walk the paths that meander idly through the verdant grass and you feel a sense of peace, some of your unease about this place easing into a pleasant calm. The air smells fresh, like it's recently rained, and you'll find the grass ever so slightly damp should you decide to take a seat.
As you make your way deeper into the park, the trees grow denser and the smell of soil and plant life grows stronger. This is the older part of the park, very nearly a forest, with ivy climbing the trunks of the trees and plants and shrubs growing riotously around their bases. As you turn a corner, you find yourself first in the statue garden, although the statues are harder to see now, choked as they are with ivy. There are many statues, some partially obscured, some fully—very few of them still stand free of the vines and clinging roots. (It doesn't feel quite as peaceful here.) If a statue's face looks a little bit familiar, you may not want to look at it too long.
Continue down the path and you will find yourself in a graveyard, one that seems centuries old. Most of the headstones are worn away by time and covered in moss, rendering them impossible to read. The few that are free of moss are blank, or bear only suggestions of names too faint to be understood. (Was that the name of—no, it couldn't have been. Could it?) Many of the headstones stand at an angle or are toppled over completely, having been subjected to either strong winds or the roots of the trees that grow up from some of the graves, spreading branches toward the sky.
TO THE EAST
The final exit of the station, to the east, puts you out on a quiet surface street. Are you hungry? Or are you paralyzed by choice? There are plenty of restaurants, offering options of almost any food you can imagine. You could try a convenience store—it's well stocked, and the items there seem free for the taking. How about a restaurant? There's no one to take your order, but when you look in the kitchen, there's something on the stove, and it's just what you've been craving. Imagine that.
A few blocks down, you come in through the lobby of a tall building and find yourself in a corporate office. The fluorescent lights are steady and unforgiving, and the cubicles and offices are empty. There are a few pieces of paper on desks, a few folders left in organizers, but everything is perfectly blank. Despite how empty and quiet the office is, it nonetheless gives you the feeling that just a few minutes ago, this place was bustling with workers going about their daily business.
You enter another building and find yourself in the lobby of an apartment complex—finally, a place to rest. The first door you try opens easily into a completely empty living room, freshly vacuumed but without a single piece of furniture. It's a nice apartment, quiet, but with a little too much echo for your taste, maybe. Still, and perhaps oddly, you have no trouble envisioning what life here would be like.
The second door you open leads to an apartment that feels lived-in. Why does it feel lived-in? It's fully furnished with items that seem to go together perfectly, true, but the feeling is more than that—the room feels like someone was just here, maybe standing right in the kitchen only moments before you swung the door open. The air is a perfectly comfortable temperature, and it somehow smells like home despite that you've never once set foot here before. The refrigerator is stocked, and the cabinets are full of spices and flatware and kitchen utensils.
As you look around the living room, you find that there are pictures in frames on the walls and some of the flat surfaces—a seascape, a field, a shot of a city park bench. In each of the photos there's something just slightly wrong with the angle, as though the photographer were aiming for a subject that can no longer be seen.
Characters are welcome to explore the district around the City Hall subway station to their heart's content. The City Hall building itself contains several floors of offices and file rooms, but none of them contain any particularly interesting information. Nonetheless, characters may wish to team up with other newcomers and try to find some hints about the nature of the city. They can also spend a while in the park, the statue garden, or the graveyard. In the blocks surrounding the station there are plenty of options for food and housing, as well as office buildings, storefronts, and alleyways to look around. There are no workers in any of the buildings, and there does not seem to be an honor system for payment, nor any consequences for taking food from the stores or setting up camp in an apartment or office building.
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SO A TURKEY WALKS INTO A BOWLING ALLEY...
There's a bowling alley open in the newly-accessible district, and you're invited to come test your mettle!
Walking into the lobby, you're struck by a peculiar combination of scents—shoe polish, floor wax, pretzels and nachos, and something pungent and a little oily. On the wall behind the desk is a shelf full of pair after pair of shoes, in every size you could possibly imagine, and there's a low rack filled with brightly-colored, heavy bowling balls that are ready for the taking. You can also hear the low hum of machinery and the rattle of pins being reset every time someone knocks them down, the bowling alley a well-oiled machine despite the fact that no one seems to be manning it.
You can bowl alone, start a match play (1-v-1), or bowl as a team, but you'll quickly find that bowling is much more fun (and somehow easier) when you're playing with others. Maybe it's because being around other people raises your spirits, but you feel more confident when you step up to bowl, and you find that when you're playing as part of a team, the bowling ball travels faster and in a straighter line, and you seem to be making strikes and spares with much greater frequency. Teamwork really does make the dream work!
If you occasionally see what you think might be the shadow of someone passing behind the machinery at the far end of the lane, don't worry about it—that's probably just your imagination.
If you stop by the bowling alley at night, you will find the place totally transformed. There's a disco ball hanging from the ceiling and brightly-colored lights flashing and dancing around the floor and walls. Any white parts of your clothing glow a delightful blueish color, and you find that you're illuminated in all kinds of interesting shades by the blacklight bulbs glowing in the ceiling. This is cosmic bowling, truly not for the faint of heart!
When you've finished bowling, you may want to stop by the snack area for a pretzel or hot dog, a soda, or—if you're there for cosmic bowling—maybe even a more adult beverage from the food counter on the far end of the building.
There isn't anything especially spooky about the bowling alley—except, of course, being forced to wear shoes that have been worn by a hundred strangers before. Characters are welcome to find their shoe size, grab a bowling ball, and go to town! Characters who come during the day will encounter a normal bowling alley, but they can always come back at night to get the full cosmic bowling experience. There will always be shoes in their sizes, the pins will reset themselves, and the balls will always be returned. Just be careful, those ball chutes can crush your fingers if you're not careful!
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WILDCARD.
The city is by no means small, and there are plenty of things for you to see. There's no rush in exploring, so feel free to take your time looking around and peering into various nooks and crannies and alleyways—and don't worry, you're not very likely to find anything peering back.
If none of the above prompts appeal, feel free to check out the Locations and Maps pages and write your own freestyle prompt using one or many of the available locations.
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citycenter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
citylogs2023-07-01 11:00 am
no subject
What he describes sounds rather impossible, but so would her life's telling to any passerby. How lucky she was to have had some kind memories of her childhood before she fell for Lucifer's seduction. The cruelty of Heine's mother would make her for a better unholy bride. To use and name her children as weapons is something Vanessa cannot fathom. ...The Dog. Something in the name twists her gut though she cannot remember why, and she glances down to her lap, though not from fear. Two wolves howl at the menacing moon. Mother is cruel. Mother is evil? No, not so. Something else. Calling. Crying. Mother can free me. Mother can love me. Yes, dear, yes.
Kerberos, the great three-headed hound of the Underworld. Mine. A pathetic mortal had masqueraded as queen of the underworld and then left it in shambles. What a wicked woman to be righteously punished, for she had tarnished the name of the mother of monsters. Mine. The scorpion burrows while the cobra's coils tighten. Don't stop. Until there is nothing left. Like the dogs.
Vanessa's chest constricts with her shallow breathing, not conscious of the exact turmoil within and yet utterly humming with it. Blood is on her tongue again, but it isn't her own. As Sir Geoffrey Hawkes was torn to shreds by his own pack of hounds with Vanessa miles away in her cottage, his blood trickled down her throat while his muscle caught in her teeth; his screams were a lullaby.
Like the dogs. For Mother. Don't stop.
No. Vanessa can't be certain such magic would work on Heine, even without the city's limitations. Even if they did...it would make her no different than the Nightcomers. He would never give permission, and if he did it would still be too deep of a sin. To be as like the Nightcomers, to be like Satan, would be worse than death. And yet, had she not already given her soul to the night? Even Ethan had finally condemned her as such. Perhaps there was no one left to love her, if ever there had been, but somehow that couldn't keep Vanessa from loving in turn, and her love is so fierce that even now she considers the most vile options for the sake of returning home and saving her family. Dare she suggest it? Had she not been condemned as a witch before, then she would afterward.
Vanessa doesn't realize that she has been lost in a trance, staring unblinking at the folds of her dirtied blue skirt without seeing it, silent for perhaps too long to be considered polite. ]
no subject
heine straightens up from where he's been leaning heavily against the window and instead unlocks the sash, which he pushes up enough to make space to sit in. half-in and half-out, one long leg dangling into nothingness while the other boot braces on the floor inside. he leans back against the frame and looks up, between the buildings at the slice of blue he can see from here. ]
Sky's not so bad once you get used to it. [ an idle observation, not entirely conscious of having even spoken aloud. heine said underground and meant underground—he's only ever seen the sky once before. the blue had been harsher then, somehow.
after a long minute he turns back to regard vanessa, wondering if she's figured out whatever cat's got her tongue. or dog, as it were. ]
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Heine's remark on the sky cuts through the shadows of her personal torment, and she blinks back towards him and the corner of blue she can spot beyond his draping figure. ]
I—
[ What was it? Something— She can't recall.
Better to focus again on what he had shared. She remembers that. An intimate tale, no matter his casual posturing. ]
I cannot believe such a woman should be allowed to live and further torment other children. [ Were the woman here, Vanessa would have little qualms over hexing her into the grave. ] And if you survive your vengeance? What then?
no subject
for a moment, heine just blinks at the question. it occurs to him slowly that all the times he's imagined killing her, all the various and sundry ways he's envisioned ripping her limb from limb, he has never imagined a version in which he survives it. ]
...Haven't thought about it. [ he forces himself to, now. a world where einstürzen is dead, truly dead—not just her unholy avatars but the woman herself—and heine is alive. ] Free the others, I guess. Maybe... find a way to destroy what's left of the spine.
[ removing the spine from his own neck would kill him, so heine doesn't go down that path in this particular imagining. ]
I don't think much would be left for me after that. Maybe work.
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If he kills his mother, will she truly stop haunting him? From her own experience, Vanessa has doubts, but that is not for her to say. If anything might lighten the weight of his immortal soul and bring him any peace, there is likely no better path than placing his efforts into helping others like him and destroying the rest of the twisted experiments. It's a much more noble path than Vanessa would ever attempt, she's certain. How selfish she is; it's that wickedness in her blood.
So fixed on the wrongness of everything since awakening to this entrapment, so absorbed in her cause, Vanessa hasn't allowed herself to think much beyond finding an escape and learning more about those around her. Fear has weighed on her and fascination has teased at her, but around others nothing of true warmth has eased the statuesque poise she always carries with caution. Not until now. It pains her, that pinch in her chest, to remember tenderness and awe. Hell hasn't won the war yet.
The cobra retreats from the scorpion's sting.
Though she doesn't realize it, a bittersweet smile has softened the sharper edges of Vanessa's features; the most genuine she has summoned since arriving here, even with the hint of sorrow lingering. ]
I believe that to be a worthy cause for living. [ Fingertips dust away the hint of tears from her eyes. ] Better to spite her, no?
[ Vanessa knows something of spite. ]
I will pray for your victory.
no subject
of angelika. of giovanni and lott and arthur. of lily, and what heine did to her. ]
Thanks. [ heine has never been much of one for religion—in his view, god must have long since abandoned the city he's from. but he recognizes vanessa's willingness to pray for him as a kind gesture. he appreciates it, even though heine usually denies himself these small kindnesses on principle.
he looks over, finally, to fix his gaze on vanessa. ]
Whatever it is you need to do, I hope you manage it too. [ and... despite himself, heine adds, ] I'll help if I can.
no subject
Thank you.
[ She is sorry to know that he cannot help her; not when it will matter most. But hopefully in some way, he can contribute to everyone's escape from here. How, though? Vanessa would like to think of a way to overcome his avoidance of women, but such a matter cannot be rushed, and sadly this is not a situation where time is their friend. How long can she go without eating or drinking? Longer than most humans, but not while keeping up her strength, from her experience. ]
Perhaps we can still help one another. Even if we are to our separate during our search...
[ Standing, Vanessa disappears down the hall for just long enough to retrieve her coat and bag. From the bag, the device that she arrived with on the train is pulled out and set onto the tea table; she'll step back so he can look at it without getting near her. He seems capable of it, but the proximity clearly makes him terribly anxious. ]
Do you recognize it? I awoke with it in my pocket.
no subject
It's not exactly like what I've seen back home, but I figured it out. [ once vanessa has set hers down and then moved back—another gesture heine appreciates, inwardly—he comes away from the window so he can pick hers up.
power button, swipe to unlock the device. it's simple, at least—only a couple of applications, one for what appears to be a shared network and a handful for direct interpersonal communications. heine turns the screen to face her. for a second he contemplates asking how much she knows about technology like this, but the fact that she'd said "do you recognize it?" and not "do you know how to work this thing?" probably means she has no idea what it is to start with.
maybe better to start small. ]
You can use this to contact people in the city directly. Seems like you can either contact them individually or send a message to everyone at once.
no subject
For now, Vanessa keeps her focus on his instruction, folding her arms while fighting back the urge to lean in closer so she can better see the screen. Her eyesight is keen, but the words are small. The concept of using it for communication among her fellow captives is more disconcerting than so much else, but she had figured out just as much. What she doesn't know is exactly how to use it in such a manner.
Oh, she knows how to use telephones. This is not a telephone. ]
So I see. If we are to use the devices that our captors left us to exchange missives— [ She hopes everyone else realizes how mad that sounds. ] —then it would be best to keep anything of note away from them until we can better understand where it is they came from. We do not know who may be spying.
[ Which their captor surely is. What other point would there be in having a living dollhouse? ]
But it may be apt for necessity. Should you find anything unusual during your hunt, I would request you bring it to me so that I can attempt to read it. [ Or bring her to it, if that's necessary. ] ...If you would not mind showing me how to use this for private exchanges?
[ It's an almost sheepish request, somewhat embarrassed that she doesn't know how to use it, but the pinch in her lips is to repress the barest urge to smile again, and this time because it is so fascinating. Even if it is a tool from their enemy, how can she not be curious about how it works? ]
no subject
he nods agreement, gaze shifting from the device up to vanessa. she might be from a different time, but she's no fool. ] Better to assume someone is always listening. Say the important things face-to-face.
[ but at least the devices can probably be used for short messages, encrypted? (heine makes a mental note to look into that.) or for making plans to meet in person. he looks back at the device then hesitates, gaze shifting briefly to the space next to vanessa on the couch. objectively it's not far from where he's already crouching on the other side of the coffee table, but it feels like an insurmountable gap to cross.
still— ] Don't... don't move.
[ oh, what the fuck. heine takes a deep breath and comes to sit on the far end of the sofa again—closer, for ease of seeing what he's doing with the device, but still with as much distance between them as he can put. he's already come this close to losing it once this evening and he doesn't plan to do it again. ]
Like this. [ he opens the app so he can demonstrate how to use it to send a private message. ]
no subject
But she knows better than to be fooled. No matter how curious it is, it was delivered by the enemy. She ought to think of code words to suit, perhaps. There is a wealth of literature she can draw upon from memory to offer ideas, but that can come later. ]
So then it names us? Or are we to choose our own names for contact?
[ He may not even yet know the answer, if the device is different from what he claimed to be used to, but she must ask. Vanessa is loathe for anyone else to choose a name for her. ]
no subject
he pushes the device back over her way so she can play with it if she wants to. ]
You had to pick a display name when you left the train, right? [ heine did, anyway. ] So it'll probably use that. I'll figure out if you can change it later.
[ but he can only assume that the prospect of going completely incognito is off the table, given that both display name and device were provided by whoever kidnapped them to this place. ]
no subject
It would be presumptuous to think that everyone who has arrived here is capable of being a friend. For now, all are merely allies of circumstance. Vanessa bears her name with pride, but not everyone has the right to speak it. ]
Mm, I had assumed that to only carry relevance for the formal inquiry... I wrote 'hidden'.
[ In a very loud manner did she write it, too — HIDDEN — Which he may find if he picks her phone back up. She has no one else to contact on it just yet so she seems in no hurry to snatch it back, if the way she settles back into one of the pillows is any indication; it's not exactly a personal belonging (yet). Anything of import is kept close and away from prying eyes. Her display name suits her plenty well, no matter what she may think. In truth she's disquieted to handle the tool of an enemy, even if it's difficult to look away from it.
To be so lucky, then, that Heine is much more fascinating to observe. ]
And what name did you choose for yourself?
no subject
in some ways it's much more advanced than what he's used to, but also somehow behind the times. heine opens the network, closes it, opens a private message and tries searching for vanessa first by 'hidden,' then by her name. he can sense vanessa's gaze on him, his skin prickling with it, but heine isn't unused to being stared at—he looks unusual, even for his own city—so he ignores it. ]
Looks like it can find you either way. [ after a second, he turns the screen so she can see. ] I tried 'hidden' first. Then your name.
[ which is a little odd, isn't it—heine doesn't remember giving his name. it surprises him a little, although it probably shouldn't—if someone is capable of yanking them away from their lives at home and thrusting them into this empty shell of a city, then surely they have ways of finding out their given names.
as for heine's own display name: ] "Stray."
no subject
A stray, is it?
[ A thought that brings back that pinch in her breast as another who has never belonged. Throughout her life, how long has she wandered from place to place just to find the strength to take just one— more— step?
She has her friends, would even call some family, but that bed would always be as temporary as all of the others. They would never accept her completely. No matter what Ethan says, she knows they would do anything to stop her ugliness from being unleashed if they had to; as they should and as she would pray for. But deeper, even deeper than that, the longer she walks this path the more she worries that she might one day abandon prayer just for a scrap of what little love has been offered, no matter how twisted. What would the world matter when there is no color?
Down both paths lie their own form of ruin. An understanding she carries but will never be content with. She has never been content. Not even with Mina.
Vanessa would never readily refer to herself as a beast, but she is and she can understand the life of never knowing a real home where monsters can be loved and cherished for what they truly are. She appreciates the choice. It makes her no less sad; for the both of them. Vengeance is unlikely to lead anyone to a place called home. ]
In your own way, you have the heart of a poet, Mr. Rammsteiner.
[ It's offered with a half-smile, almost something approaching a gentle humor, before she slips her device back into her bag. ]
I will be certain to contact you in turn, should I discover anything that you may make use of. Have you yet decided where you will be resting when not on the hunt?
[ She will not say 'live' or 'stay'. Vanessa plans to do neither of those things. ]
no subject
[ said not without some small measure of humor. not that vanessa could possibly know that heine barks back at the group of stray dogs he passes in the alleyway on his trip home from buon viaggio, that he feels a certain kinship with them—street mutts, half-feral, starved for affection and at the same time deeply mistrustful of it.
or maybe she does know. maybe that's the weird resonance between them, their respective sufferings calling out to a kindred spirit.
let it be known that literally no one has ever called heine a poet before, and he gives vanessa the absolute most befuddled look before shaking his head. ] Uh, okay. You must read shitty poets.
[ sorry to whatever poets vanessa reads. surely they're delightful.
heine taps a finger idly on the arm of the sofa, then stands to go to the window again. it's not an escape this time, but a consideration, as he looks out the window first up at the sky, then down at the ground. measuring distance, calculating risks. ]
Find a place around here, I guess. Maybe one more story up. [ he points down. ] Most other people wouldn't make the jump.
no subject
Doubtful his 'mother' attempted to teach him Wordsworth. ]
...And you would?
[ For once, he's baffled her. He had said he was difficult to kill, but a fall like that? She isn't at the window and she can still make an educated guess what that might do to a normal person. Not even Ethan would survive, and she knows him to be more than human; a beast howls from within him as well. ]
I would hope that should be an entirely last resort in any position.
[ She just found someone who could possibly be useful. Don't go turn into a blood puddle just yet, please. ]
no subject
he glances back at her with a question in his gaze, then realizes that he's probably said too much. something about the strangeness of their interaction so far has thrown heine off-kilter, made him more open with cards he normally plays much closer to the chest. he shrugs, glances down at the ground again, then straightens up and closes the window. ]
Definitely wouldn't be my first choice. [ even if he can heal from anything, including death, heine doesn't exactly relish the experience. if he can avoid breaking his legs on the cement he certainly will. ]
What about you? Gonna pick a spot to hole up?
no subject
Or cast her sight somewhere even worse. ]
...I've already considered an arrangement.
[ Even vagrancy is preferable to whatever false comforts the Devil has to tempt with, but it isn't something to brag about, nor is she eager for anyone to really know what she's up to in her 'free' time. So long as she knows how to contact him, then this should still find some measure of success. It's frustrating that she needs to seek out help like this under the guise of offering her own, but she has had her claws clipped off. She should be glad she found something approaching a kindred soul.
Standing, Vanessa gathers her belongings. She feels faint, and she'd rather not be around anyone else if she should suddenly get dizzy. A short time alone should steady her nerves again. ]
To that matter, I have other considerations I need to pursue before the hour becomes late. This has been an enlightening interaction, Mr. Rammsteiner.
[ Before she heads for the door, though, there's a pause to Vanessa's step. Something compels her shoulders to slacken a bit, and a strange softness carries the haunted gaze cast over one shoulder—something overcast with pain and yet refusing to crack too deeply. That same something speaks through her. ]
...It's a beautiful color, isn't it?
[ The barest smile is offered before she turns away, not waiting for a response. ]