What is your name?: Penny June Martyn, and friends call me Penny or PJ.
What do you look like?: Say what? Okay… I’m blond, I’m thin-ish, kinda… I mean, I’m no waif, and the boys call me a bunny, so there’s that. I have green eyes, I’m average height, about five and a half feet tall? Here are some pictures, my mom's kind of a pro.
Spoiler: Photographs
What's weird about you?: I can sense stuff – know stuff – about… Stuff. It changes, I don’t know, feelings and emotions, images – about people, places and the things that happened there, objects, you know… No, I guess you don’t know. Uh, I think someone used the term psychometrist once?
What's something you do that you are great at?: Uh, not communicating, I guess – ha! Um, remembering things. And attention to detail, I’m actually… Really good at that. Helps with tests at school and when the ‘rents try to lie to me; especially helps with cases and hunting creeps with my friends. Kind of sucks that I remember, see, and feel all the crappy stuff, too though.
What's something you wish you could be better at?: Honestly, I’m a terrible driver. Like, never put me behind the wheel of a vehicle. Please, for the sake of mankind.
What's something you do purely because it gives you joy?: I like to go running, roller skating’s pretty rad, and sometimes I volunteer at the animal shelter, with the dogs and the kitties and everything – physical stuff like that, and helping the animals there, that stuff makes me feel really stellar.
Tell me a story about the last time you saw Beth?:
Spoiler: Last encounter
”Augh,” PJ vocalized, her head leaning against the top of the library’s microfilm reader. “This thing is making my eyes hurt.”
Penny pushed her reading glasses up and rubbed at her eyes, then pinched the bridge of her nose lightly. She reached around to the side of the device and switched the reader off before sliding her rolling chair back from it and collecting her notebook. The purple glasses slipped back over her eyes and she winced, pushing them to the top of her head as she walked out of the reading room and back to the main hall of the library.
Letting her eyes adjust to the light, the blond glanced around and tried to spy her friend Beth, whom she was meant to meet here. However, when Beth hadn’t shown up at the specified time, and then not even ten minutes after that, Penny had decided to start on the work without her. Now, she spied the other blond, with her signature ponytail, bent over a book with a stack of other tomes beside her. Her brow was furrowed and she was scribbling furiously in a notebook that matched Penny’s.
“There you are,” PJ said, coming to her side. She tried to peak over Beth’s shoulder to see what she was working on, but Beth turned to her and covered the notebook. “I started without you, but clearly you did so without me, too. Coulda let me know you were here.”
“Yea, sorry, you um,” Beth paused and looked back at the book, “You looked busy and uh, I didn’t want you to lose your place or anything.”
“Uh-huh,” PJ said, pacing around to the other side of the table as she tried to peek at what books Beth had been using. They didn’t appear to be anything too out of the usual for their research sessions so PJ just sat in the seat across from her friend and flipped open her own notebook. Penny eyed Beth as the other girl went back to her work, seeing the tension in her shoulders and the rushed way she scratched down her notes; after a moment, PJ went back to her work too.
Some time later, Beth stood so quickly it nearly knocked over the chair she’d been sitting in, taking her notebook with her. The movement startled Penny, as she’d been engrossed in reading. Over her shoulder, she flashed a smile to Penny, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes as she said, “Catch ya up!”
“Inky…” PJ muttered, tapping the end of her pen against the pages of her notebook as she watched her friend leave the library; it was almost dark out.
Why do you think that Beth is worth saving?:Excuse me? What do you mean “worth saving?” Beth is my friend – she’s not perfect, but… She’s my friend. Besides, this is what we do.
Your dreams have been troubled recently. What about them disturbs you and why do you think they mean something?
I've been dreaming in black and white recently and when I wake, there's a heavy feeling on my chest, like someone was sitting on me, it's so hard to breathe... They aren't lucid dreams, and I can't remember a lot when I wake up but I know they're starting to get familiar, repetitive.
What prestigious university were you accepted to and why have you told no one except your parents?
Stanford - and actually, I haven't told anybody. Especially not my mom, who has a serious aversion to California. We moved in late '69 from Los Angeles after mom was freaked by the Manson Family murders; mom was rising photographer at the time, I guess she'd met Charles Manson a year before the murders, at a party in Hollywood - and had actually kind of liked him.
&
What is your name?:"My Catholic name's Rodney David Carlisle, but Rod's fine, Roddie too, Rodders even, if you're feeling flirty"
He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, the show of emotion almost appears unnatural on his usually monotone face.
What do you look like?:
Spoiler: Roddy Roddy Roddy Oi Oi Oi!!!
"All your dreams come true and then some"
He speaks with a surprising sense of seriousness. Yet he allows the smallest grin to slip, it's a crooked smile with teeth that ever so slightly match. But it's gone almost as quickly as it was there. "Last time I checked I'm about, 6'3"? I dunno, we use metres back home, not this hokey feet thing.."
He crosses his absurdly long stick like legs and leans back casually in the chair. "I dunno how to describe myself, narcissism isn't exactly my thing"
He's clearly lying here... horribly. "Just look at the pictures I gave you, I can't be arsed"
What's weird about you?: A soft frown descends upon his features, and his brows furrow ever so slightly. He leans forward and rummages in his breast pocket until he finds a cig, "Me Grandad was a Werewolf, and my Mum could turn cause of him"
The lighter not only illuminates the end of the fag, but also the sudden presence of the heavy tension in the room. "I can't"
He almost sighs. "Sure I get all the sense shit and stuff, you know, sniffing and crap. But all that nonsense twenty four seven just gets you down man. There's no ruddy off switch"
What's something you do that you are great at?:"I am a FIERCE Knitter"
He is completely deadpan. You fear he's being serious. He shrugs a little, "Other than that, tracking (Obviously), sensing but in a more literal sense, like, I can tell if someone's been smoking an hour ago, that sorta thing. What else.. errr, drinking?"
What's something you wish you could be better at?: "Philosophy. That shit's hard. Be cool if I could skateboard too, I hear that's what the cool kids are doing these days"
What's something you do purely because it gives you joy?:"Other than the obvious sex, drugs and booze?"
He winks at you. You're oddly attracted for a reason you can't quite pinpoint. "I enjoy... how should I put it... 'free thinking'"
He's smirking ever so slightly. "I like viewing things from a different point of view, ignoring society, disregarding expectations, that sorta thing"
Tell me a story about the last time you saw Beth:
Spoiler: Last encounter
A small stone bounced off his head.
He groaned. Voice muffled by the dirt below him.
Another stone, ever so slightly bigger this time.
He responded once more, even making effort to project his voice a little more.
"Don't make me find a boulder to throw"
Man. He just loved the type of woman who could walk all over a man. And he meant like a goddamn marching band.
With what looked like a lot more effort than it actually took, Roddy pushed himself up. The wine bottle under his arm chinked and clinked as he did so. The sunlight blinded his poor eyes when he looked up, he raised a hand to shield himself before he could think, and instantly fell face first back into the dirt again.
There was a moments hesitation before he exhaled heavily.
"Fuck it. I'm staying here"
"No you're not. I have crap to do"
Not wanting to put too much effort into anything too strenuous, Rodney rolled himself onto his back rather ungracefully. Learning slightly, he kept his eyes closed this time, besides, it was nice to feel the suns warmth and not its wrath. His clothes were ever so slightly dampened with mud, he could feel them starting to stick to his skin.
He heard the ground shift to the side of him.
"Wow. You really went all out last night huh?"
He merely shrugged.
"Did I?"
"Mhmm"
"...Remind me"
"Well, we're currently standing- or in your case lying, in a relatively large hole you dug with your hands after convincing yourself you could smell ancient Incan gold somewhere down here. And that was after the ultimately short lived pilgrimage through the Walmart"
He sniggered
"They're called Asda's where I come from.."
There was a slight pause, but he finally got a laugh from her. Albeit one born from pity,
"Roddy C, you are a Rock star if I ever saw one"
He frowned softly and opened his eyes
"I don't even sing"
Beth just smiled.
Why do you think that Beth is worth saving?: There was a sudden and altogether surprising rush of feeling and hurt crossing his face upon this question being asked. He frowned fiercely and almost rose to his feet, he felt so apparently indifferent to the statement.
"Because she's my bloody friend. What the hell other reason do I need, What the shit's that question supposed to mean in the first place?! Wanker..."
[M] Where the Road Takes: Side Roads OOC [rabbitxbee]
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