Jeanette Beatrice "Betty" Barnes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notthaticequeen) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
calling_logs2016-05-07 08:33 pm
notthaticequeen) wrote in calling_logs2016-05-07 08:33 pm
Entry tags:
With the touch of a button.
WHO: Betty Barnes and anyone who happens upon her.
WHAT: Eating, surveilling, and figuring out the city.
WHEN: Lunchtime.
WHERE: City of Tomorrow.
NOTES/WARNINGS: None as yet.
The odd little device had appeared beside her makeshift cot, which was suspect in and of itself. For a span of time she hadn't really bothered to count, Betty had been careful to keep her head down, doing what needed to be done to stay off the radar just in case someone recognised her and decided to make her useful again.
That wasn't on her schedule. Not now, not ever. And that was why it had unsettled her to suddenly find a phone-ish thing suddenly beside her. She'd walked away from it, only for it to come back to her. She'd tossed it into moving trucks and had it back hours later. She'd even shot it, but no dice.
In the end, she started to prowl through it, seeing what it did, looking for any symbols or hints that it was from someone she should be wary of. The oddest thing had been how benign it seemed. She'd watched chatter scroll through, none of it setting off her internal alarm bells.
The only button that was confusing was the one that said 'Transport.' There was no way it was accurately labeled, though - or so Betty thought until she pressed it and found herself in completely unknown territory. Her hypervigilance had kicked in immediately, and only after a little walking around and a few exercises she'd read up on from a library could her shoulders start to crawl down from around her ears.
Right now, with her back to the exterior wall of the cafe she'd chosen, she ate from a plate she'd watched be prepared, and she watched her surroundings. So far, it actually seemed... safer. This part, at least.
She'd have to think about that.
WHAT: Eating, surveilling, and figuring out the city.
WHEN: Lunchtime.
WHERE: City of Tomorrow.
NOTES/WARNINGS: None as yet.
The odd little device had appeared beside her makeshift cot, which was suspect in and of itself. For a span of time she hadn't really bothered to count, Betty had been careful to keep her head down, doing what needed to be done to stay off the radar just in case someone recognised her and decided to make her useful again.
That wasn't on her schedule. Not now, not ever. And that was why it had unsettled her to suddenly find a phone-ish thing suddenly beside her. She'd walked away from it, only for it to come back to her. She'd tossed it into moving trucks and had it back hours later. She'd even shot it, but no dice.
In the end, she started to prowl through it, seeing what it did, looking for any symbols or hints that it was from someone she should be wary of. The oddest thing had been how benign it seemed. She'd watched chatter scroll through, none of it setting off her internal alarm bells.
The only button that was confusing was the one that said 'Transport.' There was no way it was accurately labeled, though - or so Betty thought until she pressed it and found herself in completely unknown territory. Her hypervigilance had kicked in immediately, and only after a little walking around and a few exercises she'd read up on from a library could her shoulders start to crawl down from around her ears.
Right now, with her back to the exterior wall of the cafe she'd chosen, she ate from a plate she'd watched be prepared, and she watched her surroundings. So far, it actually seemed... safer. This part, at least.
She'd have to think about that.
no subject
And that was when she started poking things into the quasi-smartphone, thinking she was getting things right.
"So... I'm going to find some paint."
no subject
"You want help?" Painting your own rig while you're in it has to be a real bitch.
no subject
She had that red star on her shoulder. It was a thing for her. She wanted it gone, and she kind of wanted it gone by her own hand.
Time would tell.
no subject
no subject