[Open] chillin and killin

[summerfae]

WHO: Resa and you??
WHAT: Working hard or hardly working
WHEN: Now
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: None.

1.) Training

It has, by this point, come to Resa's attention that, perhaps, she should be at least a little more able when it comes to defending herself. And after all of the Rifter Bullshit™ that's been going down, she's more sure than ever that it's wiser to keep any magical abilities to herself. Which means that she's going to have to learn how to use some kind of weapon.

It makes sense, but is harder than she'd expected in practice.

In the training area, she eyes the available practice weapons, reaches for a sword, then winces before actually touching it, like there was something about the sword she found physically repellant. Fucking iron. Steel was better, but only barely, not enough to touch it. A bow manages to be able to be held, but her attempt to fire an arrow ends with the arrow cluttering sadly to the ground.

"I miss guns.” She mumbles, cranky and suddenly worried that she's well and truly fucked regarding her ability to kill things.

2.) Important tanning work

Resa has, technically, signed up for diplomacy, but with all the nonsense going down, has yet to find any work that truly interests her.

Which, naturally, means she has yet to do any true work. And while she can fake productivity with the best of them, the day is far too nice to put forth such effort.

Instead, she finds a lovely patch of sun in the courtyard, lays out a blanket and pillows, fetches herself a lemonade with a little umbrella in it, and promptly begins lounging. After, of course, putting lotion on. It's not sunscreen, but whatever. Close enough.

After all, surely she's earned a self care day.