Isabella Marie Swan ✝ "Juliet" (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cross_and_bow) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
alicornutopia2015-11-03 09:16 am
cross_and_bow) wrote in alicornutopia2015-11-03 09:16 am
Entry tags:
in spite of a nail
Bella wakes up in a house she's never seen before that has to violate six building codes and an air quality regulation. There's furniture - abandoned, crappy furniture - but she's on the floor in the plaster dust among shards of glass that miraculously haven't cut her. She's got her cross on her neck but no crossbow, no stakes, and she feels like she's moving through gelatin. She's not sure if she could stand - she used to be able to stand! - let alone walk, let alone kick a vampire in the chin.
Oh, fuck, what happened, the last thing she remembers is -
- her birthday magic teacher clearly not being Giles's present after all, stupid, stupid -
- she doesn't seem injured. There's a tender spot in her arm but no bruise, just - is that a needle mark. Oh, powers that be fried on a stick.
She shuffles on her knees over to the door, slowly, slowly, sneezing. She tries the knob. It doesn't work - she thinks that's a lock and not her kittenish weakness. Well, of fucking course, you don't dump incapacitated girls in houses and leave the door open, but she had to try. She tries a window. It is also locked, what the fuck kind of house locks from the outside like this, and painted shut to boot. She could punch right through the glass if -
She can't punch through the glass.
Maybe among the debris on this floor is something she can improvise into a lockpick. She's acquainted with the theory, just because she keeps having to break doors down -
Oh, fuck, what happened, the last thing she remembers is -
- her birthday magic teacher clearly not being Giles's present after all, stupid, stupid -
- she doesn't seem injured. There's a tender spot in her arm but no bruise, just - is that a needle mark. Oh, powers that be fried on a stick.
She shuffles on her knees over to the door, slowly, slowly, sneezing. She tries the knob. It doesn't work - she thinks that's a lock and not her kittenish weakness. Well, of fucking course, you don't dump incapacitated girls in houses and leave the door open, but she had to try. She tries a window. It is also locked, what the fuck kind of house locks from the outside like this, and painted shut to boot. She could punch right through the glass if -
She can't punch through the glass.
Maybe among the debris on this floor is something she can improvise into a lockpick. She's acquainted with the theory, just because she keeps having to break doors down -