[A less confident person would feel a little ridiculous for not noticing, but it's hard for Lila to feel as though she's to blame here. After all, the majority of the apartments in the 38-8 are vacant anyway. She knew there was another resident on the seventh floor, but she never thought about what that person might be like. The noise and the lived-in-ness of the eighth floor draws her like a magnet; this one is empty, endless, lonely, a place she goes through to get downstairs and that's more or less it. If she can avoid it, she doesn't go down the hall at all.]
[But then she sees the other shade — a girl, around her age or maybe a little older, drifting towards the elevator. A month ago, she would have been more repelled by other shades than fascinated, but now that she's met Regulus it doesn't feel like as nasty a thought. There's something to be learned here. And then again, maybe she's just curious.]
[That's why she walks from her living room through the wall into 703, then 705. She doesn't know where the occupied apartment is, so it's pure luck that she hits something lived-in by the third unit. It isn't so much that she enters like she owns the place as that she stops in her path once she's through the wall into 707 as if she's inspecting a new investment.]
[ Abigail doesn't notice her at first. It's never occurred to her that other shades might phase straight through the wall, and her initial reaction is pure alarm that another monster has taken the opportunity to break in and take what few possessions she has here.
The intruder looks so self-assured, though, that Abigail just observes her curiously for a moment. ]
[Hm. When Abigail speaks, she turns to look at her, arms folding over her chest. There's a gash across her throat, the remnant of a scar in her physical form glowing white. Something in her soul was too stubborn to let go of it, even in this featureless form.]
I'm exactly where I intend to be, if that's what you mean.
[So: in Abigail's apartment. Obviously this was intentional. She leans in close to peer at the other shade, walks a quarter-circle to observe her from another angle.]
You're never at the group shit, [she concludes, tipping her chin up.] The apartment stuff. The grills and . . . whatever. Or at least I don't see you. I didn't even know there was another shade here.
[ The scar on her neck is mirrored by Abigail's own, a sharp white line that slashes grotesquely across her throat, leaving nothing to the imagination as to how Abigail acquired it. She stares at Lila, her discomfort obvious at essentially seeing a mirror image of herself. ]
I didn't see it in the rules anywhere that we were required to socialise.
[ Honestly, she just feels uncomfortable making small talk in large groups. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action, june 30.
[A less confident person would feel a little ridiculous for not noticing, but it's hard for Lila to feel as though she's to blame here. After all, the majority of the apartments in the 38-8 are vacant anyway. She knew there was another resident on the seventh floor, but she never thought about what that person might be like. The noise and the lived-in-ness of the eighth floor draws her like a magnet; this one is empty, endless, lonely, a place she goes through to get downstairs and that's more or less it. If she can avoid it, she doesn't go down the hall at all.]
[But then she sees the other shade — a girl, around her age or maybe a little older, drifting towards the elevator. A month ago, she would have been more repelled by other shades than fascinated, but now that she's met Regulus it doesn't feel like as nasty a thought. There's something to be learned here. And then again, maybe she's just curious.]
[That's why she walks from her living room through the wall into 703, then 705. She doesn't know where the occupied apartment is, so it's pure luck that she hits something lived-in by the third unit. It isn't so much that she enters like she owns the place as that she stops in her path once she's through the wall into 707 as if she's inspecting a new investment.]
no subject
The intruder looks so self-assured, though, that Abigail just observes her curiously for a moment. ]
Uh, I think you're in the wrong apartment.
no subject
I'm exactly where I intend to be, if that's what you mean.
[So: in Abigail's apartment. Obviously this was intentional. She leans in close to peer at the other shade, walks a quarter-circle to observe her from another angle.]
You're never at the group shit, [she concludes, tipping her chin up.] The apartment stuff. The grills and . . . whatever. Or at least I don't see you. I didn't even know there was another shade here.
no subject
I didn't see it in the rules anywhere that we were required to socialise.
[ Honestly, she just feels uncomfortable making small talk in large groups. ]