samantha_grey | IC Inbox - Asgard Eventide

An old, brick edifice stands in front of the burnt-down ruins of a home in the hillside. Mountains rear up in all directions, covered in lush, green vegetation. Nobody comes this way anymore, but you have the sense that anything placed in the mailbox attached to this old structure will be found by someone, the only living person for whom this place still has any meaning.

OOC: Feel free to comment here if your character wishes to get in touch with Samantha Grey directly. Let us keep any such material to PG-13 or less. If you're interested in something that should be matured tagged, contact me via PM and we can discuss it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

zodiacal

[And, within half an hour, Eve will be arriving at Samantha's doorstep with the pizza, a two-liter bottle of nearly frozen over soda, and several layers of clothes for the weather. Despite this, however, she doesn't seem too bothered by the temperature and is, in fact, quite used to it. Considering where she's lived all her life, this is really nothing new to her--including the sporadic ups and downs.

After making sure she's got a proper grip on the goods, she then proceeds to give the door a swift kick. Obviously not strong enough to break it off its hinges, but enough to let anyone who's inside know there's someone waiting outside. Her hands are nicely occupied by the box and the bottle, and she can't really be bothered to let either go for a second in order to knock like a normal person.]

From:

samantha_grey

[Click. Shink. Click. Shift. Turn. Clack. Metal on metal. Creak goes the door as Samantha's half smirking and half glaring at her.]

Come on in. You knock like I do. How've you been?

From:

zodiacal

[Naturally, she'll be cocking an eyebrow at the numbers of clicks she just heard. Congratulations on going completely overboard, man...]

Good enough. [And, as is obligatory:] Did you just unlock your door six times?

[Close enough.]

From:

samantha_grey

Seven.

[The sounds began to repeat as she closed the door behind the girl. Yes, breaking through the door would be more appropriate than trying to pick the locks.]

You knew I was paranoid, Eve. Well, now you've got proof, eh?

From:

expy

Wow. [She's. So incredibly deadpan as she watches her put back every lock on the door. There is absolutely no other immediate response that is more appropriate than that.]

You know, there's a fine line between paranoid and being off your rocker.

From:

samantha_grey

Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you.

[She motioned for her to follow once the chain was back in. The place was small, but it was clean and reasonably warm. She flopped down onto a couch, shifting to make sure she knew where her tail was.]

I don't like the idea of people coming close to me when I don't know if I trust myself with them, Eve... or trust them for that matter.

From:

zodiacal

Sure. And maybe while you're sleeping tonight, Santa Claus will come give you presents.

[Let it be known, her eyes might as well have down a 380 degree roll around her sockets for all it's worth. She follows her and sets the pizza and bottle down somewhere safe, taking the liberty of removing her jacket and unceremoniously tossing it on the couch afterward. Once that's done, she takes a cursory glance at the room.]

Got any plates and cups stashed around here?

From:

samantha_grey

Oh right. I'll run and grab them.

[She got up, and a moment or two later had a pair of each, setting them out and grunting while she sat down again, half sprawled in a very un-ladylike fashion.]

You gotta admit, though... nobody's ever broken in here.

From:

zodiacal

[The urge to rub her temples in exasperation is palpable, but she refrains, instead popping the pizza box open and putting a slice of pizza in each plate. Once that's done, she fills both cups with the same portion of soda and sits down, way too calmly and elegantly for someone who's about to get their face covered in pepperoni grease.]

Oh, please. Nobody would break in here with three locks.

From:

samantha_grey

As long as they don't try and I can have my own little world people don't just walk into.... it's ok. That's all I ask.

[Without a shred of elegance, she stuffed a part of the slice into her mouth and chewed. This wasn't the sort of food she felt needed to be savored after all.]

From:

zodiacal

I'm guessing you've never seen the statistics for breaking and entering.

[Naturally, she'll be grabbing her own slice and taking somewhat measured bites from it, not swallowing until she's taken her sweet time chewing. Not savoring pizza is like, an insult to deliciousness everywhere, man.]

From:

samantha_grey

Nope. I tend to be a statistic, not read them as much. Dare I ask why?

[Well, she was something of a heathen that way, Eve. She did, at least, slow down some after the first bite.]

From:

zodiacal

There are about three hundred burglaries for every one hundred thousand inhabitants in New York. Do you know how many people live here?

[Well, someone's nice and familiar with these kind of numbers. Mad props to her mother for taking her work home, sometimes.]

From:

samantha_grey

Not nearly that many. But, how many red-heads you know with a miraculous ability to piss people off just by existing? Ignoring the crazy bitch I use magic tea to control?

[She took a bite and smirked at her as if she'd won a point somehow. It was a pyrrhic victory, but she thought it was a victory.]

Besides... you've got no idea how many of those hit me back home... well, not the burglaries anyway.

From:

zodiacal

Make that an asshole and add a thing for dragging giant space slugs into your room whenever he feels like it, and I think we've got a good comparison.

[Rolling her eyes and taking a sip from her cup, then. You gotta ease from the paranoia, gurl.]

Let me guess; more than five per month?

From:

samantha_grey

Point. You've got your share of problem children. [She sighed, reaching up to rub her forehead.] I know it's different here, Eve. I do, but getting lax is what causes me problems. It has in the past.

I mean do you honestly want to know the crap I went through before I got here?

From:

zodiacal

[She shrugs, not particularly caring for either option.]

Sure. Talking it out is the first step in a therapy session.

From:

samantha_grey

So now you're the half sex demon's therapist?

[Starting on the crust. That got a snort of a laugh and a sigh, reaching up to rub her fingers through her hair. Which part did she tell her? She chewed the tough bread for a second and thought about it.]

I had at least one inquisitor who had a thing for me back home. I know a lot more about medieval torture tools than I ever wanted to because of him.

But, really... dying didn't help me get any less paranoid.

From:

expy

[Well. That makes her chew a bit more slowly, but not nearly enough for it to be discernible from her trying to savor a particularly greasy bit before swallowing it down. So many wonderful mental images, man.]

Ew. I thought inquisitors stayed back with with the big inquisitions.

From:

samantha_grey

[She looked at the pizza for a second before grabbing another slice and taking a bite. A thoughtful chew and she glanced away.]

How about we save this for after dinner, when it's settled in our stomachs a little, assuming you're not bolting right after? Especially if you're going to ask specifics? I don't want to lose my appetite and neither do you.

From:

zodiacal

Yeah-- sounds fine by me. [Taking a very small, very quick sip of her soda because. Just. Ew.] I like my chow time to be a little less bloody.

From:

samantha_grey

Heh. I'll remember that if I ever cook for you one of these days. How're you with spices by the way?

[Someone had a penchant for ghost chilli peppers...]