Job 12 :: The Blindsided Job [Audio/Action] {Forward dated to the 27th and 28th}
[Maybe Ginia should have checked her horoscope, seen if there was anything about bad luck and future kidnappings. As it stands, Sunday turns into a bad morning when her usual morning run with Odin turns into a chase across the village as droids come to drag her away. Her only bit of relief is Odin, after barking and attempting to chew on droid legs, manages to get away without any harm.
What she doesn't expect is to come back so soon. It's early in the evening when the droids return, leaving a dazed Ginia alongside the river, just south of the village. She's back in New Feather garb, but at least her bag and journal are left at her side, journal open and recording away.]
[Audio]
[It takes Ginia a few minutes to come to, head spinning and body listless from the drugs coursing through her body. She sits up and rubs at her eyes and blinks, seeing nothing but pitch darkness in front of her. It's dark, she figures, her eyes haven't adjusted to the change in lighting, but no, as she closes her eyes, she realizes there's no different. Her eyes open, she raises her hands in front of her face, moving them in closer and closer, but she sees nothing.]
This can't be--
[Her words stop short. Words. Vocal words from her own mouth, her own throat. She'd expected nothing, just her own silent mutterings together, but no, there are words. Ginia stops and raises a hand to her throat, her next words rushed, afraid.]
You've got to be kidding me.
[Her words are a whisper before she begins to laugh, quietly at first, then louder, almost maniacal, the kind of laughter of someone whose realized they're the brunt of a very cruel joke and the only options are laughing or crying. It takes her a moment before her laughter subsides, then she begins to sweep her arms around her. She knows this routine, seen it before. If there's any sort of mercy left, then at the last, her journal is around. Her hands touch the strap of her bag and she carefully pulls it closer, patting slowly and finding the journal shortly after. The book is pulled over and her hands run over it, brow knitting in thought. Voice recordings, how do you do them...?]
Hello? Can anyone hear me? Is this thing on, please let it be on. Hi? Wow, this is strange, talking into a book, is this what it's like for everyone? Sorry, off topic. Um, hi. If you can hear this, this is Ginia. Yes. I know. The mute one, the one who isn't supposed to be able to talk, y-yes. It seems the Malnosso have decided to change that a little, hah.
[Her words come out as a rush, a mixture of disbelief, bewilderment, some excitement, and annoyance all wrapped up with a light Italian accent. She has a voice. She has a voice. Oh god, she has a voice.]
I can talk, but I'm blind. Imagine that. Guess you can't have a good thing without a catch somewhere. Um, right. If... if someone c-can hear this, could you let me know? These sundresses aren't made for this kind of weather so... yes. Right. I-I'll be waiting here. I can hear running water close by so I'm by the river. I'd follow it, but I'd rather not risk walking into a tree or falling into the river and wow. Talking. Wow. Wow. This is all...
Um... I'll be over here. W-wherever here is.
[And with that little message out, Ginia will sit and wait, fiddling a bit more with the journal, sending out a few quiet messages.]
[Later in the evening, action to CH 7]
[Home again, home again. Familiar spaces become so strange when you can't see them anymore. Due to the general emptiness of her apartment, Ginia manages to get around safely enough. A shower, thankfully without scalding or freezing herself, then a change of clothes into what she's pretty certain are a pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt, then careful stumbling off to the kitchen.
….Right, finding food is a bit difficult when you can't see what you're getting at. After a few minutes of rustling boxes and carefully sniffing food, Ginia settles down with a box of crackers and an apple. Residents of Community House seven, feel free to give her a poke at any time and help her out.]
[Monday, afternoon, voice]
[The next day, there will be another message over the journals. Boredom can do strange, strange things to a person.]
Hi, everyone, Ginia again. Thanks to everyone who helped me out last night, I appreciate it. I'm still getting used to this, but maybe this is something I shouldn't be thinking too hard about? This will all go back to... normal eventually, right?
Anyway... minor sort of favor here, but anyone have any stories? O-or riddles or mind benders, I like those too. Still getting used to all of this and, um... talking is kinda nice.
((ooc: Short mallynap, long effect. Until December 24th (or longer if I get the inclination to do so), Ginia will be able to speak, but be completely blind. No vision whatsoever. Rescue rights will go to Archie, but she'll continue to talk to everyone while she waits. Tagging into multiple sections is also acceptable!))
What she doesn't expect is to come back so soon. It's early in the evening when the droids return, leaving a dazed Ginia alongside the river, just south of the village. She's back in New Feather garb, but at least her bag and journal are left at her side, journal open and recording away.]
[Audio]
[It takes Ginia a few minutes to come to, head spinning and body listless from the drugs coursing through her body. She sits up and rubs at her eyes and blinks, seeing nothing but pitch darkness in front of her. It's dark, she figures, her eyes haven't adjusted to the change in lighting, but no, as she closes her eyes, she realizes there's no different. Her eyes open, she raises her hands in front of her face, moving them in closer and closer, but she sees nothing.]
This can't be--
[Her words stop short. Words. Vocal words from her own mouth, her own throat. She'd expected nothing, just her own silent mutterings together, but no, there are words. Ginia stops and raises a hand to her throat, her next words rushed, afraid.]
You've got to be kidding me.
[Her words are a whisper before she begins to laugh, quietly at first, then louder, almost maniacal, the kind of laughter of someone whose realized they're the brunt of a very cruel joke and the only options are laughing or crying. It takes her a moment before her laughter subsides, then she begins to sweep her arms around her. She knows this routine, seen it before. If there's any sort of mercy left, then at the last, her journal is around. Her hands touch the strap of her bag and she carefully pulls it closer, patting slowly and finding the journal shortly after. The book is pulled over and her hands run over it, brow knitting in thought. Voice recordings, how do you do them...?]
Hello? Can anyone hear me? Is this thing on, please let it be on. Hi? Wow, this is strange, talking into a book, is this what it's like for everyone? Sorry, off topic. Um, hi. If you can hear this, this is Ginia. Yes. I know. The mute one, the one who isn't supposed to be able to talk, y-yes. It seems the Malnosso have decided to change that a little, hah.
[Her words come out as a rush, a mixture of disbelief, bewilderment, some excitement, and annoyance all wrapped up with a light Italian accent. She has a voice. She has a voice. Oh god, she has a voice.]
I can talk, but I'm blind. Imagine that. Guess you can't have a good thing without a catch somewhere. Um, right. If... if someone c-can hear this, could you let me know? These sundresses aren't made for this kind of weather so... yes. Right. I-I'll be waiting here. I can hear running water close by so I'm by the river. I'd follow it, but I'd rather not risk walking into a tree or falling into the river and wow. Talking. Wow. Wow. This is all...
Um... I'll be over here. W-wherever here is.
[And with that little message out, Ginia will sit and wait, fiddling a bit more with the journal, sending out a few quiet messages.]
[Later in the evening, action to CH 7]
[Home again, home again. Familiar spaces become so strange when you can't see them anymore. Due to the general emptiness of her apartment, Ginia manages to get around safely enough. A shower, thankfully without scalding or freezing herself, then a change of clothes into what she's pretty certain are a pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt, then careful stumbling off to the kitchen.
….Right, finding food is a bit difficult when you can't see what you're getting at. After a few minutes of rustling boxes and carefully sniffing food, Ginia settles down with a box of crackers and an apple. Residents of Community House seven, feel free to give her a poke at any time and help her out.]
[Monday, afternoon, voice]
[The next day, there will be another message over the journals. Boredom can do strange, strange things to a person.]
Hi, everyone, Ginia again. Thanks to everyone who helped me out last night, I appreciate it. I'm still getting used to this, but maybe this is something I shouldn't be thinking too hard about? This will all go back to... normal eventually, right?
Anyway... minor sort of favor here, but anyone have any stories? O-or riddles or mind benders, I like those too. Still getting used to all of this and, um... talking is kinda nice.
((ooc: Short mallynap, long effect. Until December 24th (or longer if I get the inclination to do so), Ginia will be able to speak, but be completely blind. No vision whatsoever. Rescue rights will go to Archie, but she'll continue to talk to everyone while she waits. Tagging into multiple sections is also acceptable!))