#wcardsstarter

[krasivaya-rezetsa-blog]

Morning Glory // July 10 // Open

One of the benefits of working the night shift meant you got free breakfast. However, Anya preferred eating in the comfort of her own home, with Naum begging for a share. She could speak to him in Russian without anyone else hearing, and stop worrying that someone will remember her name after glancing at the name tag.

          “Should have called yourself Annie,” she would scold herself every single time she saw it.

Anya was a notable name, and a well-known animated princess from a hilariously inaccurate movie. Annie was a young woman in New York who worked the night shift at Denny’s to make ends meet.

But she had filled out the form, and that was that. And now, she was on her way back home before anyone else was on the street, before the sun had even fully risen above the skyscrapers of Manhattan. A box of scrambled eggs and pancakes sat in the noisy plastic bag decorating her arm, but, otherwise, she boasted no notoriety at all.

New York was quiet at this time of day, and activity was at a minimum. But Anya was far from calm wherever she went, eyes and ears open for any sign of movement in the streets. Nothing happened for some time until -- a single footstep crushing an empty bag of chips had her whirling around, reminding herself not to pull out a knife just yet.

          “What do you want?” she barked, tense and angry and ready for a fight.

[suzannah-dockery-blog]

Exhibit A // July 6 // Milo & Suzannah

Suzannah rarely frequented museums as much as she used to. School field trips weren't incredibly common, but with all the extra classes she was shoving into an already crazy schedule, Suzannah had the chance to go on more than the average student. And at least one of the insane ballet instructors sent her to an art gallery to admire Degas and try to emulate their elegance.

For the record, Suzannah never could. Her knobbly elbows got in the way. But it did give her an appreciation for the effortless arches of the back, the calculated curves of every limb and the weight distribution over every piece. But looking at Degas got her into looking at Monet got her looking at some of the more obscure and local artists's works, and she still made the effort to go every now and then, bedecked in a long coat, gloves, and a heavy, concealing sunhat.

This month's work was still being set up, but things were rarely overlooked. Hanging pieces were secured, frames were nailed down for more permanent fixtures while statues were given properly weighted bases. It was by a fluke that the one by Suzannah had been overlooked. In an interactive gallery, the artist created flexible plastic sculptures that the audience could mould into anything they liked, leading to dangerously lopsided figures. Suzannah was inspecting the details of the neighboring gallery, an intricate collection of model ships made with driftwood.

She was fascinated by the sheer amount of tiny details in each piece, including ladders, barrels, and sometimes even carvings of people. But, behind her, a plastic statue teetered precariously off to the side -- right in her direction and out of her line of sight.

[suzannah-dockery-blog]

Hey, um.

Sorry, look. I accidentally bought two tickets for the, um. There's a ballet going on tomorrow night at the Met. It's...yeah, it's a long story, and you don't have to keep in touch or go with me or anything. Just -- you look like someone who'd like ballet. I think. Do you maybe want to take this ticket? No charge, no catch or anything, just...yeah, sorry.

[suzannah-dockery-blog]

Zoologic // 29 June // Open

Suzannah Dockery enjoyed nothing more than the company of big cats. They gnawed on her horns when she lay next to them, and they licked her face when she stopped paying attention. It helped that she could understand them perfectly and growl and purr right back. She held in depth conversations with the lions when she wasn't needed elsewhere. ”I told you last week, Baby," she huffed. "I don't care how fat he is, that man with the tree-covered shirt is not for food.”

Baby, the biggest lioness in the enclosure, had a hard time accepting this fact. She rolled over on top of Suzannah with a groan, much to the audience's awe. She was nothing more to them than another attraction, and, in a way, it was perfect. It gave her a certain amount of anonymity, a certain amount of freedom to do whatever she wished. And right now, she wished to shove Baby off her and wrestle until one of them pinned the other down.

Baby was sometimes kind enough to let Suzannah win.

Their fight was interrupted by a waterbottle landing besides them and a hyperactive little boy screaming vulgarities at them both. Anger boiled up inside her, but Suzannah willed herself to stay calm as she reached for the walkie talkie. "Security to the lions, please. We've an unmonitored minor harassing the animals." Nanna stood and plucked the bottle from the glass, scratching one of the males on the head as she passed. She squirrelled up a tree and stuck her arm through the fence as well as it would go, well aware of how some of the adults shrunk back with disturbed looks and whispers. “Please don't throw your personal items into the enclosure," she reqested, nothing but polite. "The lions like to explore things with their teeth, and plastic is very bad for them.”

The little boy snapped again, swearing and cursing in her face, and Suzannah waited patiently before looking up to the crowd once more. She dared look one of the zoo-goers in the eyes, well aware of how intimidating it would seem no matter her intentions, and offered her apologies: "It's always a problem with children, I'm afraid. I hope this hasn't affected your opinion on the zoo."

[suzannah-dockery-blog]

Street Walker // 30 June // Open

[ Suzannah Dockery smelled like the back end of a lion. Granted, most people weren't able to tell that was exactly what it was the first time meeting her. They usually assumed it was something along the lines of "shit," "body odor," or, most accurately, "like a zoo". To be fair, Suzannah usually did smell like a zoo, but today was special.

It was the day that Oscar, a ragged, crippled thing who rarely left the den, decided to relieve himself during feeding time -- right where Nanna happened to be sitting. After a short argument about it, and the following guilt that ended up with her scratching the old boy behind his ears and apologizing, Nanna decided to do what she could to wash it off. Of course, the smell still stayed, even when she changed into her street clothes and washed herself off again as best she could. But the dust was gone, and she managed not to get any pebbles wedged between her horns and her skulls, so Suzannah decided that made it an overall good day.

She didn't exactly enjoy frequenting bars, nor did she find her home at coffee shops. But a good fast food joint would never fail to provide dinner and the illusion of company before she headed home for the day. ]

      "Scuse me, coming through."

[ Maneuvering through Central Park and out into the open, Suzannah took a moment to admire whatever new exhibit was being put up in celebration of Independence day. Of course, it didn't last long when calls of "joker" and "mutant freak" followed her yet again (not to mention the rare but discomforting horny puns), but Nanna did what she could to ignore them, hanging a left and making her way West towards a pizza joint a few blocks away. She hunkered down, pulled her hood up over her head, and moved on quietly if not elegantly (ballet had never harmed her posture to be sure), skirting around the pedestrians as best she could, and mumbling out when she wasn't able to: ]

      "Scuse me, coming through."