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londoncallingrpg2017-01-22 09:02 pm
akatawitch) wrote in londoncallingrpg2017-01-22 09:02 pm
Entry tags:
OTA
Putting a fist in someone’s face had no business feeling so good, but for Sunny it was sweeter than anything in this moment.
Catcalls were a part of life for a woman, and normally in the interest of getting the hell out of there as soon as possible her response would be something along the continuum of ignoring it to shouting something back. But she would keep moving. Moving away.
She couldn’t do that today. It wasn’t just some complete idiot stranger shouting what on the surface was a compliment on her ass. It was political bullshit, it was protest marches, it was school stress, it was winter blah, it was friends in terrible relationships, it was sexual frustration, it was feelings that were too big for the little container she was trying to keep them in, it was her father’s weird face when she’d finally told her parents she was seeing someone.
It was too much.
She’d roared and rounded, and then he was on the ground with a bloody nose and looking up at her with stunned terror in his eyes while she stood over him and yelled.
“Get the fuck up, bomboy!”
((Sunny can be anywhere that’s convenient for you. By the way, she basically called our nameless sleaze a manchild))
Catcalls were a part of life for a woman, and normally in the interest of getting the hell out of there as soon as possible her response would be something along the continuum of ignoring it to shouting something back. But she would keep moving. Moving away.
She couldn’t do that today. It wasn’t just some complete idiot stranger shouting what on the surface was a compliment on her ass. It was political bullshit, it was protest marches, it was school stress, it was winter blah, it was friends in terrible relationships, it was sexual frustration, it was feelings that were too big for the little container she was trying to keep them in, it was her father’s weird face when she’d finally told her parents she was seeing someone.
It was too much.
She’d roared and rounded, and then he was on the ground with a bloody nose and looking up at her with stunned terror in his eyes while she stood over him and yelled.
“Get the fuck up, bomboy!”
((Sunny can be anywhere that’s convenient for you. By the way, she basically called our nameless sleaze a manchild))
no subject
There'd been an extended convalescence after a mission went not as smoothly as Victoria might have liked, and she'd needed something to pass the time. Learning to knit had fit the bill nicely. These days she didn't enjoy it as much as baking or flower arranging, but it was a pleasant enough activity.
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"And learning to throw a punch, as well, if today's anything to go by." Was that a glimmer of approval in the shape of her mouth? "Now. Tea. Would you prefer something strong, or soothing? Either would be fitting, I believe."
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"... Something soothing, I think," she mused. She wouldn't have thrown the punch if she hadn't been overwrought in the first place.
Or maybe she would have. He'd really, really deserved it.
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"Under other circumstances I might recommend not telegraphing so much, but for such a teachable moment, some warning can be helpful." From her tone, Victoria could've been explaining how to cast on knitting or the roles of accent and emphasis in a floral arrangement instead of how to hit someone.
"But more importantly, how are you doing now?"