The lights come on again flickering a little at first, they make a heavy buzzing sound, and the light seems to shimmer off of the ice that has recently formed.The floor itself looks dirtier like no one has cleaned it in forever; most surfaces have a frosted appearance to them.
Any part of the place that’s made of metal looks twisted and rusted.Outside the darkened store is a figure.She is like no other figure that Frank has ever seen before.
Her hair is an orange red, natural rather then artificial, she is dressed in pre civil war era clothing, all of it is red, the odd thing about the women though she is wearing European clothing and is most certainly white, she is done up in proper war paint and has on First People Jewelry and other adornments marking her as a warrior.She also wears a red hooded cloak which rustles slightly behind her.
She stares forward at Frank and her gaze follows him if he moves around but she doesn’t little else.
-- Edited by Alter on Wednesday 23rd of September 2009 11:39:08 AM
Frank blinks for a few moments, confused and alarmed. He will approach her, cautious but not afraid - whats the point of fear now, anyway? Another step deeper into the spirit world - god only knows what this one is. He makes a respectful gesture, warrior to warrior - if she's in the paint, by his own beliefs, she's a man and he will treat her as one. "It is a good day to hunt."
Her eyes move to him, “I’m watching you.” She says her voice is flat and cold, like the ice around the two of them, “I’m always watching.” She says and her hand moves she has a very odd weapon in her hand, a steel tomahawk, most tradition tomahawks are made out of much softer or more brittle material making this weapon a joint of First People’s and European technology an extremely deadly instrument.
Her face changed a burses appears and blood will start to roll down her face like she’s been struck, “I’m watching you,” She will then swing at him with the weapon, “I’m always watching.”
Her voice doesn’t change and neither does her face the only thing that changes is her body as she attacks like a trained warrior.
She will shake her head for a moment and her red hair goes all over, “I’m watching you,” She says red hair covering her face however blood starts to drip on the ground and more signs of violence appear on her body, “I’m ALWAYS WATCHING!” She will swing at Frank however he aim seems to be a little off now.
"I don't mind! Honest! We dont' have to fight, Warrior!" he'll keep out of the way or block as needed, he does not want to hurt her. "Please - you're hurt... let me help you!"
Frank can manage to stay out of her reach if he backs up quickly enough the Tomahawk whizzes by his head coming deadly close, the smell of copper is filling the air a thick unpleasant smell, and the pool of blood at her feet that trails behind her seems to be building.
She will then very suddenly stop and she will drop the Tomahawk to the ground. “I’m watching you.” She says and her voice seems very distant, “I’m always watching.”
She will then seems to fall out of her clothes however nothing shows on the ground except a pool of blood so wide that frank has to hop back of have it land on his toes. Her clothing seems to turn into pink mist and he hears her voice, “I’m watching you, I’m always watching.” Then the distant cry of the war drums returns.
Frank is frantically trying to match this to *anything* that his grandfather ever told him - or anything he's ever read about. Freud would probalby say its his histrionic warrior subconscious or some bull****, identified as a woman because its all about feeling and not rational thought - but that's because Freud was ****ed up about women.
The ice seems to melt as the drums grow distant and the lights in the gas station come back on full power nothing is left of the women or the strange world Frank had been drawn into except the Steel Tomahawk is lying on ground, it’s engraved with symbols in red and its handle has red leather.
