cityofcoba | (no subject)

Who: Istas and you!
When: Day 9, midday
Where: On a random city street
What: Istas arrives, and everything is now ridiculously cold.

Istas had just stepped out of the store when it happened, brand new midnight blue petticoat in hand. She'd expected to emerge to blaring horns, towering skyscrapers, and countless busy humans rushing down the sidewalk.

Instead she emerged to a small town, surrounded by snow and land where trees could not grow. The buildings were familiar - in fact, if she wasn't mistaken, they were exactly the same as those in Kugluktuk, which had seemed so large when she was young. But the smells here that were not the scents of Kugluktuk, and the people were not the people of Kugluktuk. The place before her was not as it appeared.

It was also not New York. Istas stood frozen in confusion and bewilderment. How could she be here, in Not-Kugluktuk? She had not arrived here by plane, or run across the frozen tundras. She had only walked through a door.

Istas did not understand. And she did not like it. She spun around, wishing to flee back into the store that she had left, but it was gone. Instead there was just a house, without even any parasols for sale in the window. With an angry growl, she clawed at the door with fingernails that had grown larger and sharper, leaving deep gouges in the wood.

[[ooc: Istas wears Gothic Lolita clothing and this is her current outfit<]]

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Istas paused, considering this. "So if this door brought me to Not-Kugluktuk, another may bring me to New York?"

"It's always possible. I mean, the problem is that it's pretty much impossible to predict, but it's worth a try."

Istas nodded. What she needed to do now was clear: she had to open every door in Not-Kugluktuk, until she found the one that led to New York. So she stalked over to the next house, and tore off the door.

Inside, a rather started man stared back at her from his kitchen, was was evidently not a New York Kitchen. "Hey! That's my door!" he protested.

Istas said nothing. She just turned, and started making her way over to the next house.

She doesn't have much subtlety, does she, Patchouli thought, floating after her. For the most part, she's going to stay out of this, but she is going to watch her.

You know, unless she tells her to help.

No, subtlety was certainly not one of Istas's skills. Bashing through walls, yes. Being subtle, no.

Asking for help also did not enter into Istas's mind. She needed no help to open doors, as evident by the trail of angry and terrified homeowners she left in her wake as she made her way down the street. She did not seem at all inclined to stop, or to do anything about the small crowd of people that were gathering at a (safe) distance to mutter worriedly about the destruction she was leaving in her wake. In fact it looked like Istas planned to continue until she had either found New York, or checked every door in the city.

Well, that was an unwelcome sight. Patchouli preferred to keep the amount of company around her to a minimum. She closed into Istas.

"We're drawing a crowd," she stated -- thankfully masking the fact that she felt like she'd made a horrible mistake and didn't see a way to back out. "Do you not have a more subtle method of getting these doors open, or am I going to have to do something to scare them off or something?"

"No," Istas said, turning now to scowl at the crowd. She did not like them either, although she had learned to tolerate them. It was difficult to observe fashion trends otherwise. "You do not need to scare them off. I will do so."

And with that she growled at the crowd. It shouldn't seem threatening at all, coming from a young woman in full Gothic Lolita dress, and yet when looking at her there was no doubt that Istas was very dangerous indeed. The crowd nervously moved back.

"Well... that's a lot easier than what I had in mind..." she muttered. Well, what she had in mind would probably be pretty simple for her, too, but probably a lot less likely to wind up getting her in a lot of trouble.

"Very well. Let us continue."

"I find humans often do what you want them to if you threaten them with violence," Istas said simply, as if she were merely discussing the weather.

"Of course -- self-preservation and all."

Patchouli had no way of making that threat seem credible, though, other than just vaporizing them -- in which case, why bother with trying to threaten them?

"Of course. It would be a different matter if they possessed greater ability to create carnage." Istas paused, considering this and thinking of Verity. "If more humans possessed the capacity for carnage. Some do have it in abundance."

"I've seen a few who are... amazingly capable, but most of them don't seem to use them very much, from what I've seen."

Well, again, 'from what [she's] seen.'

"Yes."

That seemed to be all Istas was inclined to say. She wasn't exactly the most talkative person. Action was more her thing, which was why she resumed tearing doors from their hinges.

Patchouli did not speak often, but she could say quite a lot when she did.

The witch follows after Istas, just to make sure she didn't do anything to anything that seemed... irreplaceable. Also she was strangely interested in this new section of the city.

(Also, she thought that there was only one way to stop Istas -- nuking the crap out of her -- and she thought that that would probably be a worse idea for her than just letting her yank doors off of houses that may not be there tomorrow.)