Post by MIKAELA THORESEN on Jul 12, 2014 1:59:17 GMT -5
Like most days in the mid afternoon, the sun held high above the city and the inhabitants of Tokyo simply went about their business. Most of which whom didn't appear to have a care in the world, after all it was a nice and breezy day. Although naturally, not everyone would share such a sentiment, to be productive in their downtime. In fact, said person could be currently found sitting upon a bench in broad day light.
Green eyes currently half lidded as a lit cigarette hung lazily from between her lips, the woman known as Misery was at the moment merely lounging back upon this bench. Her arms draped over the back, legs crossed at the ankles which were sprawled out before her on the pavement. Idly she would listen to the foot steps passing her by, in most cases sounding more like a march than just a single person. These streets were far busier to her than they had been back in Sundsvall, she would muse as she let a puff of smoke escape the corner of her mouth. The Finnish woman clearly wasn't in the best of moods, more so than normal as she wore a permanent scowl upon her face.
Behind her just a short few feet stood the double doors of an establishment, a restaurant that she had been told about by a few of her peers. A place she was hoping to dine at if only to help get rid of the hunger pains she was feeling from not having eaten since the night before prior to her fight. A bout which she wore the scars from if you would and perhaps a contributing factor as to why she was denied entry. A busted lip which had scabbed over a bit and a bruise on her cheek, her wounds far less serious and numerous in the case of her opponent. A first round knock out, as was her growing reputation, her wounds coming from her mentality of not afraid of getting hit if it means a shot of her own.
Perhaps another reason would be her appearance, it clear that Misery didn't belong around here as one of the natives. It wasn't uncommon in some areas of Japan for them to refuse service to non-Japanese patrons, and she was obviously not one of said patrons. On top of that, she didn't dress the most elegantly, brutish even. A Black tanktop with a ribcage decal on the back, a heart depicted in a realistic fashion inside of it. A pair of black tight fitting pants which cascaded over a pair of black combat boots.
A top her head she wore a simple piece of black fabric, much like a hood cut away from the back of a hoodie. Though this was far thinner, and of course the last and in todays case most important piece of her wardrobe. A simple black leather jacket, one of which she hadn't been wearing upon her entry of the restaurant which would have covered both her arms. This no doubt being the major reason that she had been denied, the tattoos she wore, sleeving both arms out in ink. This with her bumps and bruises from the previous night, made Misery to be out as something else entirely...
As her head would lazily roll back over the harsh wooden surface of the bench, she couldn't help but feel a tinge of anger building as she eyed the upside down letters of the restaurant from her vantage point. In a huff she would right herself as she took an aggressive drag off her cigarette, immediately blowing the smoke out her nose, much like a bull as she began to consider her options. Violence though a short term solution to her problems, it wouldn't accomplish much aside getting her in trouble. It wouldn't do anything to satiate the loud grumble that emitted from her stomach as she sat where she was at, brow furrowing as no doubt the people passing her by heard that one.
Green eyes currently half lidded as a lit cigarette hung lazily from between her lips, the woman known as Misery was at the moment merely lounging back upon this bench. Her arms draped over the back, legs crossed at the ankles which were sprawled out before her on the pavement. Idly she would listen to the foot steps passing her by, in most cases sounding more like a march than just a single person. These streets were far busier to her than they had been back in Sundsvall, she would muse as she let a puff of smoke escape the corner of her mouth. The Finnish woman clearly wasn't in the best of moods, more so than normal as she wore a permanent scowl upon her face.
Behind her just a short few feet stood the double doors of an establishment, a restaurant that she had been told about by a few of her peers. A place she was hoping to dine at if only to help get rid of the hunger pains she was feeling from not having eaten since the night before prior to her fight. A bout which she wore the scars from if you would and perhaps a contributing factor as to why she was denied entry. A busted lip which had scabbed over a bit and a bruise on her cheek, her wounds far less serious and numerous in the case of her opponent. A first round knock out, as was her growing reputation, her wounds coming from her mentality of not afraid of getting hit if it means a shot of her own.
Perhaps another reason would be her appearance, it clear that Misery didn't belong around here as one of the natives. It wasn't uncommon in some areas of Japan for them to refuse service to non-Japanese patrons, and she was obviously not one of said patrons. On top of that, she didn't dress the most elegantly, brutish even. A Black tanktop with a ribcage decal on the back, a heart depicted in a realistic fashion inside of it. A pair of black tight fitting pants which cascaded over a pair of black combat boots.
A top her head she wore a simple piece of black fabric, much like a hood cut away from the back of a hoodie. Though this was far thinner, and of course the last and in todays case most important piece of her wardrobe. A simple black leather jacket, one of which she hadn't been wearing upon her entry of the restaurant which would have covered both her arms. This no doubt being the major reason that she had been denied, the tattoos she wore, sleeving both arms out in ink. This with her bumps and bruises from the previous night, made Misery to be out as something else entirely...
As her head would lazily roll back over the harsh wooden surface of the bench, she couldn't help but feel a tinge of anger building as she eyed the upside down letters of the restaurant from her vantage point. In a huff she would right herself as she took an aggressive drag off her cigarette, immediately blowing the smoke out her nose, much like a bull as she began to consider her options. Violence though a short term solution to her problems, it wouldn't accomplish much aside getting her in trouble. It wouldn't do anything to satiate the loud grumble that emitted from her stomach as she sat where she was at, brow furrowing as no doubt the people passing her by heard that one.
