Post by Kyra Mytheson on Mar 29, 2010 21:08:36 GMT -5
The door to the bathroom banged against the wall as a whirlwind of almost colorless hair and leather whooshed into it. Kyra never understood why, but whenever she needed to think, or whenever she was bored, the bathroom was the place to go. Probably because of the criminals she knew of that lived here, she was the only girl. That was okay with her for the most part- she disliked other girls. Most of them were just as silly as boys were.
At the end of the row of porcelian sinks waited her favorite one to sit on. It was her favorite because it was so far down, that no one ever bothered to use it. Leaping up to her perch was always a bit of a struggle- shortness and leather pants often do not coexist nicely with stretching and jumping. With a flick of her wrist, the small woman moved the mirror to reveal her little secret hiding place. Inside lay a small notebook, some interesting pens, a few sticks of gum, a few tiny dolls that were assembled from bits of cloth and any plant matter resembling sticks or grasses she could get her hands on, some pretty stickers, and an old magazine that had seen better days. Nothing in it was exactly contraband that she knew of- no, that kind of thing would remain on her at all times- but it was just something she did to make her life exciting.
With a quick flip of the bird, Kyra greeted the camera that had focused on her from the moment she had walked into the room. It really didn't matter whether they monitered her; she really didn't care if they caught her doing something 'bad'. For now, she began to write future plots in the notebook along with her thoughts of the people she had met so far in Purgatory, Purgatory being her nickname for her new home.
After finishing her entry for the day with a particularly rude sketch of the gaurd that had caught her trying to smoke the other day, Kyra decided that she needed some other means of entertainment. Hopping off of her sink, the midget landed on the floor with her heeled boots clacking off the ground. With overdramatic flair, she began to pull off her jacket for the security camera. She needed a shower anway- why not give a show beforehand? Her shirt quickly followed the jacket and she began on her pants. Oh, the little thrills she had to milk from this place...
At the end of the row of porcelian sinks waited her favorite one to sit on. It was her favorite because it was so far down, that no one ever bothered to use it. Leaping up to her perch was always a bit of a struggle- shortness and leather pants often do not coexist nicely with stretching and jumping. With a flick of her wrist, the small woman moved the mirror to reveal her little secret hiding place. Inside lay a small notebook, some interesting pens, a few sticks of gum, a few tiny dolls that were assembled from bits of cloth and any plant matter resembling sticks or grasses she could get her hands on, some pretty stickers, and an old magazine that had seen better days. Nothing in it was exactly contraband that she knew of- no, that kind of thing would remain on her at all times- but it was just something she did to make her life exciting.
With a quick flip of the bird, Kyra greeted the camera that had focused on her from the moment she had walked into the room. It really didn't matter whether they monitered her; she really didn't care if they caught her doing something 'bad'. For now, she began to write future plots in the notebook along with her thoughts of the people she had met so far in Purgatory, Purgatory being her nickname for her new home.
After finishing her entry for the day with a particularly rude sketch of the gaurd that had caught her trying to smoke the other day, Kyra decided that she needed some other means of entertainment. Hopping off of her sink, the midget landed on the floor with her heeled boots clacking off the ground. With overdramatic flair, she began to pull off her jacket for the security camera. She needed a shower anway- why not give a show beforehand? Her shirt quickly followed the jacket and she began on her pants. Oh, the little thrills she had to milk from this place...
