willowed: (camera)
[personal profile] willowed
As much as Nuriko appreciates seeing everyone be able to walk the streets of Darrow as they like, there are times when she misses the safety of the palace. Some days when she wishes someone would tell her exactly where to go and what to do, give her rules to live by, take away some of the excess freedom that she doesn't know how to use in the slightest. In the wake of all the time she has to herself, and all the time she can't seem to put into results, Nuriko spends a great deal of time simply roaming the streets of Darrow, keeping an eye out for trouble and helping where she can.

She's not smart enough to break out of the city, but she might be smart enough to keep it together.

The places she frequents most are the bars, mostly because sheer strength is the language they speak, and she has it in spades. Sometimes, her help isn't welcome; there are a few places that have kicked her out after she kicked a few jerks where it hurts, but even when ejected, there are usually are least one or two people who thank her for the intervention, and that's enough.

The few places she has left are probably the ones that need the most help anyway, where people turn their gazes away too often. That's where she spots a familiar face. Grabbing a glass of water from a waitress' tray earns Nuriko a few choice swear words, but she bows her head graciously in return before setting it down next to Sam Winchester.

(no subject)

Date: 2013-05-04 10:56 pm (UTC)
theprodigalson: (little intense)
From: [personal profile] theprodigalson
Sam has no idea how long he's been here. Time is strange in Darrow in more ways than one and, even after a year spent here, he still can't quite get a handle on it.

But, really, in the grand scheme of things, time is pretty low on his list of troubles.

He's on his third beer now. Or maybe his fourth. The bartender keeps clearing way the bottles so he's lost count, and it doesn't particularly matter anyway. It's not enough, he knows that. He's still feeling, guilt and fear and a boiling, simmering rage in the pit of his stomach. It's still there.

Sam's beginning to think he'll never be rid of it.

A movement at his elbow catches his attention and he turns his head just enough to make out the person who's joined him, eyebrow arching when he sees the familiar flash of purple hair. "Mmm," he murmurs, taking another sip of his beer. "Long time no see."

(no subject)

Date: 2013-05-05 07:14 pm (UTC)
theprodigalson: (those cheekbones)
From: [personal profile] theprodigalson
There's an edge in her voice he isn't too unfamiliar with, either from her or anyone else. For a moment, he isn't sure what might be the cause, but another blurry look in her direction and he picks up on it.

Semele's. Of course.

Given everything else, though, Sam has a difficult time feeling any sort of guilt for it and he shrugs lazily before sliding his bottle over toward her. "There's no point in me being there anymore," he tells her. It's definitely not an apology. "You can't say that you miss me."

(no subject)

Date: 2013-05-10 12:28 am (UTC)
theprodigalson: (those cheekbones)
From: [personal profile] theprodigalson
Sam only arches an eyebrow when Nuriko swiftly steals the bottle from him and makes no move to give it back. There's a prickling under his skin, a discomfort that, in his current inebriated state, is easy enough to ignore.

He simply catches the eye of the bartender, orders a new one with a nod of his head before turning back to her.

"You barely even know me," he points out. It's far from a complaint, just a simple fact, and one Sam has spent the better part of the past year ensuring all around. There are a few who've gotten close, a few who've weaseled their way in, but even them Sam is certain wouldn't miss him too much if he were to disappear for good. That's the way of a Winchester after all. To be just as ghost-like as the things they kill in some ways.

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willowed: (Default)
Nuriko (Chou Ryuuen)

July 2020

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