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affiliated with citta-alveare advisory warning: this blog contains historical portrayals of racism, misogyny, and other mature themes

[unbindings]

never again ;; ᴏᴘᴇɴ

[herestothelittleguys]

"Wait -you can understand me now ?” Steve asked, surprised, annoyed, and confused in equal measure when she decides to say something in a language he could understand. They all blended together to land him solidly in ‘bewildered’, especially when she decided to grab his map and…draw the seashore on it.

"…Okay, that’s pretty good," Steve conceded, squinting at the picture. "But. Why am I in the ocean, exactly? And why does it look like I’m…sinking?"

[unbindings]

"<It's not like I want to understand you. Why can't you speak my language instead?>" Because his people hold all the power even though they don't deserve it. She doesn't understand how or why that is, only that it is the truth and it infuriates her.

"<Isn't it obvious? You're so pale, you're like a ghost. You ferry me across the water to your strange land, I wish you had drowned!>" Huff, puff. She doesn't need his map. She will find someone who understands her and she will return home. As simple as that.

[unbindings]

never again ;; ᴏᴘᴇɴ

[herestothelittleguys]

"Aw, hell," Steve sighed, brushing his bangs away from his forehead. "So. We can’t understand each other, and I bet you can’t read this”- he waved the map- “either, seein’ as you didn’t want it. Damn it. No wonder you’re so pissed.”

He frowned at the map in his hands. “We really shoulda taken people who can’t read into account when we made this…Maybe if I…”

Pulling a stubby pencil out of his back pocket, he doodled a small cartoon of Lalu’s face at their current location, then showed it to her. “See? This is where you are,” he told her with a hopeful arch of his eyebrows, pointing first to the little face, then to her.

[unbindings]

Why did he care whether or not she could understand the map? Was that... pity coming from him? The nerve. She's tempted to ignore him when he pushes the map at her again-- 

"Where I am?" she repeats in disbelief. "I am here," she corrects, stomping on the ground. Then, she takes the pencil out of his hands and flips the map over, sketching out what appears to be a coastline. Then, she draws waves. After the ocean is depicted in full glory, she draws a tiny head with wheat for hair. "You am here." Right in the water. Drowning.

[fireferretfighter-blog-deactiva]

The pat on the shoulder and compliment made him crack a smile, at least a little. ”Ah, uh… thanks. You’re pretty cool too.” Heh, she kinda was. Like, someone from older times, all about that honor and stuff. Man, she would have loved talking to Zuko or someone like that. Keeping customs though, just wasn’t his thing.

"No no whooaaa, not like that… I mean like, you can have it. I don’t really sleep there anyway.” Bolin rubbed his head again, reaching down to his neck. It wasn’t just out of nervousness, but soreness too. “I feel better sleeping on the streets… it’s more like where I grew up. I know that doesn’t really make any sense but… hey, it’s just who I am.”

[unbindings]

"Cool?" she echoes, unfamiliar with the term. She wonders if he's referring to yin energy versus yang in which case it's formidable that he can tell from a single glance. Her head does ache. Perhaps her body is unbalanced.

She frowns at him, still perplexed by his offer. Is he renting the space out to her? "I can't pay." She adds quickly, "I will pay. Once... I have job. I will pay for bed." As kind as his hospitality is, she doesn't like the idea of being indebted to him or anyone.

[hottestassassinmom-blog]

It’s the first time she’s come across someone who she can’t understand, which shouldn’t be the most bizarre thing that’s happened in this place. Perhaps this woman was deliberately communicating in a different language?

"I cannot answer your inquiry, but I can assure you that your concerns would be best put at rest." She figures that’s a less condescending way to tell her she didn’t understand her. Ziio steps forward, opening the door with one arm.

"Would you like to go inside and see for yourself? Otherwise it might be better you relocate somewhere more soothing you seem rather..distressed, and I doubt the city will do much to help that." 

[unbindings]

She can't refuse. Though, she is afraid of what awaits her. Is this some sort of trap? The woman seems kind enough, but she can't just follow the whims of every stranger who opens their arms to her. Lalu is conflicted.

With a deep breath, she enters the building and peers around. None of it makes much sense to her, but she notes that the merchandise is on sale. What does one do with these strange boxes?

In one corner, she recognizes Chinese script. Her hands graze over the price tag. It means nothing to her: She has never known what all the swooping strokes mean.

"What is this place?" she forces out of her mouth, thick with an accent.

[fireferretfighter-blog-deactiva]

The heroics was not so much the problem as what came after it. Dealing with the mess he had made of the streets, and what people would say of him now. Hopefully this woman wouldn’t spread anything too drastic, though she didn’t look too keen on rumors. 

"Yeah, I want to go home too." Her hand waving was not lost on him, Bolin saw the landscape perfectly. She asked why? "Hey, your guess is as good as mine." Was she picking up any of this? He was gonna assume she was. Bolin turned over his hands, shrugging sadly. "Sorry, I can’t help with that. Uh, you ca use my apartment if you want… but I know what you mean. It’s still not really home." Poor guy looked like he was gonna cry. Manly tears of course.

[unbindings]

Oh no. Had she upset him? Poor thing. He looked old enough to be her younger brother. A good son would have stayed on the farm, unlike her. Her father couldn't keep her. Empathetically, she rested a hand upon his shoulder and watched over him gently. "You are very kind. Strong man." One who was willing to be vulnerable before her? Such a rare sight.

"But I cannot live with you. It is improper."

Never mind how she was technically a married woman. As much as she hated that man, she was honor-bound to him.

[vampiremonarch-archived]

The smell of fear was always difficult to decipher. Perhaps reason being was that she hid it so well, overbearing confidence and pride masking the scent so there would be no traces for him to sniff out. Monsters and demons of the like are supposed to be good at that sort of thing aren’t they? He, on the other hand, uses his other senses to decipher such emotions among mortals.

These senses were failing him at this very moment. Was it unfortunate, per-say? Not quite. It would be a real shame if he were to push buttons that would end up being his biggest mistake this evening.

He knows all too well from experience the hell that could be unleashed by a woman’s fury.

And yet he’s still sick enough to make an attempt.

"C’mon now chica, do I look like the type ‘a guy to take somethin’ from ya?" The vampire laughs, folding his arms over his chest and leaning into her personal space just a bit too close for comfort.

"I mean. Unless there’s somethin’ ya personally want me to take off yer hands. I can keep a secret."

[unbindings]

His words are disorienting. Casual. Too familiar. She can't tell what his intentions are and she refuses to lower her guard. But then again, if she's too abrasive, too quick to accuse him of something, he may very well live up to expectations.

Gingerly, she takes a step back.

"No." She waves her hands in front of herself, criss-crossing her palms, like the way Charlie had shown her, and she repeats the words the man had taught her, "No whore. No good." She won't take his money; her body isn't for sale.

"<I'd sooner take my own life than live through such shame.>" There's fire in her eyes still.

[fireferretfighter-blog-deactiva]

Huh, weird. The way she talked that was. Also, he had never really had anyone give him a bow before for just being helpful. A kiss on the cheek sure, but this was so strangely formal. Looking at what she was wearing, it was sort of like a water tribe outfit, though more touched with red, and more traditional then most. Bolin scratched his head again, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

"Hey, uhh, don’t worry about it. You wanta go somewhere else or, uh, you done with me? Cause I can just… um, go, if you don’t want me. You know, ah, no pressure. I mean, I want to help more but… if you need me." It sounded like this lady got hit with a lot of tough shit. If he could help with that, great, but she also probably didn’t want another man trying to help but only making things more uncomfortable or worse. Besides, the whole bodyguard act was more his brother’s thing. Bolin would just get in the way too much, never knowing when to step back.

[unbindings]

He isn't used to being a hero, she realizes. His modesty is, in truth, quite refreshing. A small ghost of a smile sits upon her lips. Maybe she can trust him to help her. Someone with his talent and skill has more access to this frightening city. "Home. Need to go home. Don't know how." Her hands paint a thatched roof and animal pen. The plains are vast and wide.

"Why I here?" she asks him, hoping he has answers for her. Even though she understood that the ghost-man in white had said the word 'experiment', she hadn't the faintest idea what the word meant. Add in the word 'social' and she is at a complete loss for how to interpret those cryptic statements. "No belong here."

[fireferretfighter-blog-deactiva]

"Um I’m not a sorcerer though…" Bolin said softly as she moved behind him. The fact that the rock she flung drew blood made him loosen the grip on his own stone. Damn, she meant business with these guys. Bolin waved his free hand in his own defense.

"Whoa whoa I’m not gonna kill anybody… ah…" Well her threat had the desired effect, causing the men to pick themselves off the ground and run off. Shit, hopefully this wouldn’t give him a reputation… or at least the violent kind. A reputation as a hero he could use, but that was only going to be coming from the woman he helped. Bolin turned back to look at the girl who was hiding behind him, brushing up his hair to look at least a little presentable. "Hey, so what was up with those guys? You in some sort of trouble?"

[unbindings]

She's lucky the edge was so sharp. Enough to make an impact, both literally and figuratively. She's proud that she can instill fear in those bad men. Let them feel ashamed for what they have done. Let them know that she will not forgive them.

Her attention snaps towards the young man who claims he did not use magic and her brow burrows. Hastily, she bows to him in gratitude and makes a vow to pay him back as soon as she is able. His words are familiar yet not insultingly so. Maybe she should try to speak the way the rest of them do, if only so they will take her seriously.

"Trouble, yes. Lots of trouble. Here, no good." She gestures a lot, trying to give voice to the words that feel all wrong in her mouth. Like rocks. The kind you throw at people; they are weapons, not something you eat. "<I'm grateful, truly.>"

[fireferretfighter-blog-deactiva]

Bolin peeked down the alleyway after hearing the noise of rapid footsteps. There wasn’t much to do in this city, so anyone who ran from place to place usually was up to something. This wan’t just one person though, it was a gang, chasing after a girl, even trying to pull her down by her hair. Like hell he was going to let that stand. Sure, he had made the mistake of helping thieves in her position by mistake, but this guys really looked like the type of scum even Bolin wouldn’t have felt too bad about conning. 

Slamming his foot down, pieces of the street flipped up, tripping up the men who were chaseing her. Bolin ran over, planting himself down in a offensive position, and tearing up two earth disks. Flinging them, one smashed right into the wall to the side of the man who had almost grabbed her hair, stopping him dead in is tracks. The other rock levitated right in front of his fist, ready to fly.

"Back off buddy, that was a warning shot." Bolin was hoping he would scram before things had to get ugly. Even lightly thrown, a solid rock disk like this could break a person’s ribs if there weren’t wearing protection like in probending matches.

[unbindings]

He moves the art like a sorcerer. She has heard tales about men like him, who can command the elements of the world, but never did she think men like him still existed. This is a world of magic, then, and she is but an ant among ferrets. Anxiously, she ducks behind the stranger and prays that he won't find reason to turn upon her. His temper is one she should not test, not unless she wants rocks smashing her face.

The best she can do is pick up one of the fragments from the torn earth and chuck it at one of the bad men. The shard strikes him against the temple and his head blossoms into a brilliant crimson flower. This, she can do.

"<He'll kill you! This sorcerer will show you no mercy!>"

[unbindings]

vampiremonarch

This city is filled with ghosts. Not just the people who would pass her around, but strange creatures who pretend at being human. What's worse is that the humans around her aren't worrying. Are they all under some sort of curse? Or is the demon revealing itself to her for a reason?

She is not afraid! If this is hell, she will bargain with the demon, outsmart it, and crawl her way out, even if it means the evil earth tears her nails off.

"<What do you want from me?>" she asks, knowing that she must not falter.

[unbindings]

fireferretfighter

It's not just the white men she has to be wary of. All of them are leering at her as if she's a slab of meat. The sickening feeling in her breast sinks to her gut and she bloats with disgust. Eyes snapping shut, she hastens down the road, wincing as the jeers grow louder and louder. Before she realizes it, she is slamming her feet against the pavement and the men are running after her.

She will not be caught, not this time, even if she has to shove her way through. People bark at her as she pushes, but not a single one stops to help her. Can't they see the bad men chasing her, their hands like claws as they try and claim her hair like reigns?

[hottestassassinmom-blog]

To be frank, rarely does she pay much attention to new comers (and it was always very obvious who they were) but this woman is familiar in nature—somehow relatable, obviously human and obviously not of a time period or place in which television existed.

“There is no one there, at least not close enough for you to reach.” She briefly extends a hand towards the woman but retracts it suddenly, knowing very well that if someone had dared to touch her in such a state she would have broken their fingers. She does not know if this woman is capable of such—really it’s a matter of respect more than anything else.

“The only thing you might release by pounding on that glass is the wrath of whoever owns this shop.” She speaks with an easy smile despite her companion’s apparent distress. "And surely there are better ways to get acclimated than by incurring the anger of another?"

[unbindings]

The sudden voice startles her and she retreats from the glass, her skin already flushed from the incessant pounding. She meant to help those people, to let them out, but this woman insists that they are not real. What are they then? Ghosts?

She doesn't understand why she knows what this woman is saying, even though the sounds are all wrong. It hurts her head to think about. Maybe this is a fever-dream and she's still stuck with that disgusting pig of a man.

"<Who owns this store?>"

[unbindings]

never again ;; ᴏᴘᴇɴ

[herestothelittleguys]

Steve knew he screwed up when the woman’s body language shifted from ‘don’t fuck with me' to 'fuck off’. He had the good sense to step back before he got decked, hands held up and away.

Holy shit, was the translation software on the fritz? How fucked up would it be if they just decided to…turn it off and see what happened? Steve wouldn’t put it past them.

"Was that…Chinese?" he asked with a hopeful expression. Maybe they could find a way past the language barrier if it was one that he knew of.

[unbindings]

Was that the name they gave her language? It sounded so ugly on his lips. What was Chinese? She spoke 官話, not this 'Chinese' that he spoke of. And they looked down upon her for being illiterate. 

Lips tighter than before, she stared at him a while longer before saying, "<You're saying it wrong. Don't call it that.>" Skeptical about the man's intentions, she continued to scowl at him in frustration. "<It's Guānhuà.>" Literally translated, she was saying the 'speech of officials'. She took pride in being able to speak the tongue of important men, even if she was only the daughter of a farmer.

[unbindings]

bestassassin

His skin was darker than hers and yet his eyes were so big. She knew not what to make of it, other than to look away and try to mind her own business. And it would have worked, too, if it weren't for the sudden rattling of some horrifying monster that broke up the roads. She threw her hands over her ears and stumbled back, hoping that the man who had been possessed by that twisted fiend wouldn't come near her.

Why were there so many cones on the streets, all as bright as fruit?

[unbindings]

hottestassassinmom

There are too many of them, staring at her clothes. She doesn't belong here and she doesn't understand what an 'experiment' is. When she passes by a glass pane and sees more boxes behind it with persons trapped inside, she tries to pull them out. Eventually, she starts banging on the glass, wondering what sort of cruel people would trap another's soul.

[unbindings]

never again ;; ᴏᴘᴇɴ

[herestothelittleguys]

Someone did arrive soon after she did, though he seemed to be hauling something to her instead of the other way around. Steve huffed and puffed his way over to the housing directory, carrying a small cardboard box that should not be as heavy as it was, and let it drop to the ground with a relieved sigh.

Kneeling carefully in front of it - mindful of the strain he’d just put on his back carrying the stupid thing- he popped open the flaps to reveal stacks of brightly colored fliers depicting a clearly labeled map of the city, along with useful tidbits about all of the districts. The culmination of several weeks’ effort between himself, the mostly friendly neighborhood cartographer, and the color printer at the library.

'FREE MAPS' he wrote on the box with the fantastic new ‘sharpie’ he’d gotten a few days ago, then stood and brushed himself off. Then actually noticed the other person standing there. He glanced at her, noting that she looked just as pissed off and confused as he did when he first arrived, then bent back down to grab a flyer.

"Want a map, miss?" he asked, holding it out to her.

[unbindings]

A man whose eyes were too big approached her and waved something at her. Why was his hair the color of dying grass? She tensed up and shrank away. There was no woman barking at her in a foreign dialect, telling her to stand tall and look pretty. Though she was thankful for that difference, she was still torn between annoyance and disorientation.

Eyes flickering to the paper, she stared at the sketch of the city and frowned. More words.

Anger boiled within her breast. To offer something like this to her was little more than a mockery. "<What good is a map if I don't know where I am on it?>" she quipped, refusing to speak back to him in his own language. See how he liked it.

[unbindings]

Ah, hello! Would anyone be interested in helping Lalu adjust to the city? She's from the late 19th century, so she's really. Not okay with any of this, oh my gosh. Like for an ask to plot!

*Please note that her blog may contain triggering content down the road! It'll be tagged and stuffed behind a cut if things get explicit, but it's just a heads-up for those following.