blow out all the candles [East]
Feb 22, 2015 20:48:15 GMT -5
Post by jake on Feb 22, 2015 20:48:15 GMT -5
Imogen doesn't know how to feel. Not that it matters. Not that it ever has. She's always been... well... like this. Pacing down the halls of the warehouse, exploring the floor itself. No one seemed to spend any time here-- it was the way point between heaven and hell. Purgatory. Purgatory, hell's waiting room, the like. She likes that. The girl moves easily on her feet, eyes on... eyes on everything. Here and there. Over the ground in the most easy way possible. She tries. She tries to make things effortless. That was how she fooled them, how she tricked them all-- a girl. A girl that could kick as much ass as any man.
It was a family game, and she was happy with that. Though she hadn't been in the ring yet, she was learning. Slowly and surely learning, and that was good enough. Imogen didn't want to go into anything she wasn't sure she could get out of. That made sense. She, at least, made sense to herself. With gentle paws across the ground, she moves... she moves easily. Bright, mismatched eyes that take in pretty much everything. That's all she needed. All Imogen needed was... everything? Sure. Another thing that made sense.
When left alone for too long, Imogen goes looking for things to stimulate her brain-- IE; trouble. She looks for trouble, or trouble finds her. It's easier that way. She's got a soft laugh in her throat as she makes her way over a rusty piece of machinery, leaping up like a set of steps until she stands atop it. Rusty, with sharp edges, but she can see nearly the entirety of the warehouse itself. Everything that had, maybe, once been glorious. This is where she belongs, Imogen decides. She belongs all the way up here, at the top.