Post by Bastille Amtrum on Mar 26, 2014 22:57:50 GMT -8
"fuck."
Smoke hissed from her mouth in a short puff of air as Bastille flicked her first cigarette in two years. Thank god she was perceptively alone- though not always a surprise...when you became a mother the world tended to forget you exist-.....which was totally cool by her standards.
She placed it to her lips again and felt the smoke enter her lungs. She sword she could feel the tar just killing her lungs. But damn it, it was the most exciting thing to her....finding a box of old cigarettes in the land of debris. She had gone clean a while ago, but for some reason she'd laid eyes on them this morning and all day her mind had just bounced right back to that tiny box she'd pockets. So, she'd found a quiet spot to have one and think.
Why'd she give it up again? Oh right...living- because that was a thing. A little over two years ago she'd just gotten back on her feet after recovering from being blown up by a train. Two years ago she had returned to Long Beach...
Two years ago she'd been single, childless, almost legless, and smoke-free. Old habits die hard she guessed. Not that she would give any of it up, her children had weaseled their way into her every thought and her husband was already a thorn in her side- though that was truly her understanding of when the relationship was going well. Life was going well...people were going well....also as far as she understood, she really didnt follow the going on's of those around her. She cared little for the politics beyond her home.
A couple months ago she thought she might care to get involved...then her brain almost broke and she almost killed her husband and....well people....apparently she wasn't suited for this caring stuff. So here she was....sitting on a random piece of cement, smoking a cigarette. Man life was tough sometimes.
She pulled out her old rusted rapier from her days first starting at 259...it was broken in two by this point and nothing but a memory really. But she smirked and threw it to the ground. Memories were best left for the rest of the world to find. Besides, that's what photographs were for. She pulled out the second item of her treasure hunting this morning...a small disposable camera, not destroyed by radiation. With a smile she pulled it out of its box like brand new and raised it. Pointing it back at herself she pulled down her sunglasses and raised a brow at the lens.
"The click that was heard around the world...." She flipped it and immediately stuffed the camera in her bra under her breast where no one braver than her husband might venture- and at least he was predictable enough for her to find a way to hide it. She was truly too excited about her new camera to even care that the world might still be ending- and even so...someone had to record.
Smoke hissed from her mouth in a short puff of air as Bastille flicked her first cigarette in two years. Thank god she was perceptively alone- though not always a surprise...when you became a mother the world tended to forget you exist-.....which was totally cool by her standards.
She placed it to her lips again and felt the smoke enter her lungs. She sword she could feel the tar just killing her lungs. But damn it, it was the most exciting thing to her....finding a box of old cigarettes in the land of debris. She had gone clean a while ago, but for some reason she'd laid eyes on them this morning and all day her mind had just bounced right back to that tiny box she'd pockets. So, she'd found a quiet spot to have one and think.
Why'd she give it up again? Oh right...living- because that was a thing. A little over two years ago she'd just gotten back on her feet after recovering from being blown up by a train. Two years ago she had returned to Long Beach...
Two years ago she'd been single, childless, almost legless, and smoke-free. Old habits die hard she guessed. Not that she would give any of it up, her children had weaseled their way into her every thought and her husband was already a thorn in her side- though that was truly her understanding of when the relationship was going well. Life was going well...people were going well....also as far as she understood, she really didnt follow the going on's of those around her. She cared little for the politics beyond her home.
A couple months ago she thought she might care to get involved...then her brain almost broke and she almost killed her husband and....well people....apparently she wasn't suited for this caring stuff. So here she was....sitting on a random piece of cement, smoking a cigarette. Man life was tough sometimes.
She pulled out her old rusted rapier from her days first starting at 259...it was broken in two by this point and nothing but a memory really. But she smirked and threw it to the ground. Memories were best left for the rest of the world to find. Besides, that's what photographs were for. She pulled out the second item of her treasure hunting this morning...a small disposable camera, not destroyed by radiation. With a smile she pulled it out of its box like brand new and raised it. Pointing it back at herself she pulled down her sunglasses and raised a brow at the lens.
"The click that was heard around the world...." She flipped it and immediately stuffed the camera in her bra under her breast where no one braver than her husband might venture- and at least he was predictable enough for her to find a way to hide it. She was truly too excited about her new camera to even care that the world might still be ending- and even so...someone had to record.
