-- ahhhh!

[Clicking of a rifle being readied for use.]

... mustn't think about it now... mustn't... think... now...


(OOC: Is a soldier today. And not entirely stable. For who saw the other entry: I set it on backdate as a complementary OOC entry because I figured it was a bit tl;dr.)

So the last two days were no unusual occurrence in this place? What other surprises does it hold?

However, there are more pressing matters. I am looking for employment. As for my skills, I'm good at managing businesses - used to manage a store and two sawmills, in fact. I also have some experiences with farming, and I am perfectly capable of hard work.

If you choose to employ me, you won't be sorry.

Would anyone know about where to acquire a place to live and, well, other necessary things? Of course, I am grateful toward the charitable people letting me stay at the church, but it is hardly suitable as a permanent dwelling-place.

[A pause.]

This place does use money, doesn't it?

And what is this strange tune? Is that supposed to be music?

(OOC: Back to the routine for now. Does not know your jazz. Oh, and ALL replies are voice replies... even those I forget to tag as such. ;;)

This is the first of a series of entries detailing the development of Scarlett in the City, either in meta or stream-of-consciousness form, whatever I'm feeling like. I'll be setting them on backdate so as to not clog up everyone's flists, but leaving them public so people can follow my lines of thought concerning her continuing characterization - though mainly, these entries are for me to keep up with her.

( So, about yellow brick roads... )

... w-what? Is someone there? Anybody? Hello?

...

Is nobody here?

(OOC: One Southern Bitch has been dropped in Xanadu! She'll be... slightly shaken considering recent losses and now being tossed into a completely foreign place. Pick her uuup?)