Diana didn't mind being naked. She owned a mirror, she knew what she looked like. Her body was a temple and she had the face of an idol. That really wasn't the issue. What bothered her more was the theft. Clothes were material possessions, easily replaced, but her ring, her necklace? She felt a stinging pain along the back of her neck, as if the chain had been forcibly ripped from her. The tether that connected her to her sisters, back to her father, was gone. And that, more than the loss of her clothes, made her feel truly naked.
But again, she didn't mind. There were, after all, more hilariously strange problems to deal with. The super weird message came to mind. The slasher-movie-style bondage? Setting? Maine? 2007?
A little line formed between her lavender eyes as she tried to assess the situation. Everyone always told her that she was stupid and, for the most part, she believed it. But she reasoned it didn't take genius-level intellect to recognize a mall. Only a few swaying steps. In LA, malls were more common than fire hydrants. And that was definitely a food court. But...
No. No something was very, very off.
"Merde," she muttered, pursing her lips. At least there were other people around. Walking up to a complete stranger--stark naked--and asking 'Hi, so, how did I end up here?' didn't feel like a solid plan. But from the expressions on other people's faces, she got the sense that they were all in the same boat. That was bad news. So she turned, sweeping her hair off of her shoulder and asked, "Is everyone all right?" An American accent, with the faintest hints of Valley Girl. "Is anyone hurt? Do you need help?" She was a vampire. Ultimately, she felt she could handle Weird, better than most.
At least, that's what she decided for the moment. It was entirely possible she'd change her mind, though. Diana was pretty good at that.
[OOC: Happy to switch to action spam if you prefer!]
B - Exploring the Mall
Shoplifting wasn't exactly Diana's style. It wasn't like she was sticking it to some fat cat corporation. The person most likely to be hurt was the minimum wage shop worker. How many times had she rebuked the teenage girls on the compound? But she had to admit, she could see the appeal. There was a bit of a giddy rush, almost like a heartbeat, when she snabbed a flowy, purple paisley dress from one of the shops. Anyway, if she was going to get in trouble, better for that than for causing some kind of accident walking around in her bare skin. She had once, quite literally, caused a car crash back in the 1960s. It had been at a bra burning. The guilt haunted her for weeks.
It was nowhere near as unsettling as this place, though. The glossy-eyed, phrase-repeating patrons of the mall reminded her of Invasion of the Pod People. And not in the groovy, nostalgic sort of way. She tried coaxing information out of a couple of them, but finally gave up. The straw that really broke that camel's back was when she tried to use her Awe on them and got...nothing. Not that Diana traded on her looks above all else, but she wasn't used to getting...nothing.
She wanted to get out, but any time she came near one of the doors, she was sure she could still see sunlight. It made no sense at all. She was perfectly wide awake. But...well. She didn't know what the light was. All she knew was that it was definitely holding her prisoner.
Fortunately, the frustration was interrupted when she found the shop with musical instruments. It had only been a few hours, but already, Diana's fingers desperately itched for her guitar. None of the guitars on display were as good--they weren't her guitar--but she tried them out, one by one. And almost by reflex, she started to sing. First a few French arias. Then Bon Jovi. The Beatles. Selections from Children of Eden. Now she was on American Pie:
"Did you write the book of love And do you have faith in God above If the Bible tells you so? Now do you believe in rock and roll? Can music save your mortal soul And can you teach me how to dance real slow?"
Complicated songs. That's what she realized. She was going out of her way to fit in as many notes and lyrics and chords as she could. As if to prove that she was real, unlike the zombie-ish patrons going through the motions around her. Malkavians always looked to self-understanding before they tried to put together the pieces of the puzzle that was the world around them. This was, probably, a little more literal than her usual mind trips. But she needed to start somewhere.
[OOC: Happy to switch to action spam if you prefer!]
C - Radio Chatter
[Diana's voice is a little bit like a pure drop, falling into a smooth pond. The ripples ring out, richer and fuller. Or something like that. She's always been musical and even a dire situation isn't going to change that.]
Um...hi?
[Nor is it going to change the unmistakably American accent of the Cainite. It's tinged with Valley Girl. A voice she's worked to perfect over the years.]
I don't know if anyone can hear me. Uh, my name is Diana. Diana Abel. A-B-E-L. As in "Caine and dot, dot, dot..." Listen. I'm not sure what's going on here but...I don't suppose Alan Funt and a hidden camera is an option right now?
Can someone tell me what's going on? That would be totes groovy.
Uh...over?
D - Wildcard
[OOC: Seriously, throw any of the prompts at Diana! She's a LARP character. She runs straight into the fire every time.]
Diana Abel | Vampire: The Masquerade | OTA
Diana didn't mind being naked. She owned a mirror, she knew what she looked like. Her body was a temple and she had the face of an idol. That really wasn't the issue. What bothered her more was the theft. Clothes were material possessions, easily replaced, but her ring, her necklace? She felt a stinging pain along the back of her neck, as if the chain had been forcibly ripped from her. The tether that connected her to her sisters, back to her father, was gone. And that, more than the loss of her clothes, made her feel truly naked.
But again, she didn't mind. There were, after all, more hilariously strange problems to deal with. The super weird message came to mind. The slasher-movie-style bondage? Setting? Maine? 2007?
A little line formed between her lavender eyes as she tried to assess the situation. Everyone always told her that she was stupid and, for the most part, she believed it. But she reasoned it didn't take genius-level intellect to recognize a mall. Only a few swaying steps. In LA, malls were more common than fire hydrants. And that was definitely a food court. But...
No. No something was very, very off.
"Merde," she muttered, pursing her lips. At least there were other people around. Walking up to a complete stranger--stark naked--and asking 'Hi, so, how did I end up here?' didn't feel like a solid plan. But from the expressions on other people's faces, she got the sense that they were all in the same boat. That was bad news. So she turned, sweeping her hair off of her shoulder and asked, "Is everyone all right?" An American accent, with the faintest hints of Valley Girl. "Is anyone hurt? Do you need help?" She was a vampire. Ultimately, she felt she could handle Weird, better than most.
At least, that's what she decided for the moment. It was entirely possible she'd change her mind, though. Diana was pretty good at that.
[OOC: Happy to switch to action spam if you prefer!]
B - Exploring the Mall
Shoplifting wasn't exactly Diana's style. It wasn't like she was sticking it to some fat cat corporation. The person most likely to be hurt was the minimum wage shop worker. How many times had she rebuked the teenage girls on the compound? But she had to admit, she could see the appeal. There was a bit of a giddy rush, almost like a heartbeat, when she snabbed a flowy, purple paisley dress from one of the shops. Anyway, if she was going to get in trouble, better for that than for causing some kind of accident walking around in her bare skin. She had once, quite literally, caused a car crash back in the 1960s. It had been at a bra burning. The guilt haunted her for weeks.
It was nowhere near as unsettling as this place, though. The glossy-eyed, phrase-repeating patrons of the mall reminded her of Invasion of the Pod People. And not in the groovy, nostalgic sort of way. She tried coaxing information out of a couple of them, but finally gave up. The straw that really broke that camel's back was when she tried to use her Awe on them and got...nothing. Not that Diana traded on her looks above all else, but she wasn't used to getting...nothing.
She wanted to get out, but any time she came near one of the doors, she was sure she could still see sunlight. It made no sense at all. She was perfectly wide awake. But...well. She didn't know what the light was. All she knew was that it was definitely holding her prisoner.
Fortunately, the frustration was interrupted when she found the shop with musical instruments. It had only been a few hours, but already, Diana's fingers desperately itched for her guitar. None of the guitars on display were as good--they weren't her guitar--but she tried them out, one by one. And almost by reflex, she started to sing. First a few French arias. Then Bon Jovi. The Beatles. Selections from Children of Eden. Now she was on American Pie:
"Did you write the book of love
And do you have faith in God above
If the Bible tells you so?
Now do you believe in rock and roll?
Can music save your mortal soul
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?"
Complicated songs. That's what she realized. She was going out of her way to fit in as many notes and lyrics and chords as she could. As if to prove that she was real, unlike the zombie-ish patrons going through the motions around her. Malkavians always looked to self-understanding before they tried to put together the pieces of the puzzle that was the world around them. This was, probably, a little more literal than her usual mind trips. But she needed to start somewhere.
[OOC: Happy to switch to action spam if you prefer!]
C - Radio Chatter
[Diana's voice is a little bit like a pure drop, falling into a smooth pond. The ripples ring out, richer and fuller. Or something like that. She's always been musical and even a dire situation isn't going to change that.]
Um...hi?
[Nor is it going to change the unmistakably American accent of the Cainite. It's tinged with Valley Girl. A voice she's worked to perfect over the years.]
I don't know if anyone can hear me. Uh, my name is Diana. Diana Abel. A-B-E-L. As in "Caine and dot, dot, dot..." Listen. I'm not sure what's going on here but...I don't suppose Alan Funt and a hidden camera is an option right now?
Can someone tell me what's going on? That would be totes groovy.
Uh...over?
D - Wildcard
[OOC: Seriously, throw any of the prompts at Diana! She's a LARP character. She runs straight into the fire every time.]