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Entry tags:
[video]
[ The woman on the video may look somewhat familiar; it's the shape of her face, the ice blue of her eyes, the blonde of her hair, her height. South and her brother aren't identical, of course, but the family resemblance is clearer than she'd like it to be.
(More than ever, these days; who wants to look in your own reflection and see your dead brother's features looking back at you?)
She's shoved the sleeves of her coveralls as far up her arms as she can get them, revealing a variety of tattoos up one of her muscled arms. There's hints of old purple dye in the front of her hair. Around her neck there's a puck, dangling from a chain, holding a chip of some kind.
She looks... pissed. ]
So this ████ing sucks donkey— [She blinks, then squints.] Oh for ████'s sake, I can't even ████ing swear? ████. ████. ████ing ████-████ ████████████.
[ There's a pause of a few seconds before South visibly decides to test this thing's limits. ]
████trumpet. Bull████. ████biscuit. Dip████. ████face. Jack███. Fuck██████— ha, ████ed that one up.
Ugh, whatever. My name's South. Yes, that's a ████ing codename, no, I'm not telling you my real name. Guess I'm stuck here with the rest of... whoever the hell you guys are. Which ████ing sucks.
[ Not that things didn't suck where she came from, but at least she was something resembling free and kind of in control of how much stuff sucked. Call her old fashioned, but she'd much rather ruin her own life than have someone else do it for her. ]
(More than ever, these days; who wants to look in your own reflection and see your dead brother's features looking back at you?)
She's shoved the sleeves of her coveralls as far up her arms as she can get them, revealing a variety of tattoos up one of her muscled arms. There's hints of old purple dye in the front of her hair. Around her neck there's a puck, dangling from a chain, holding a chip of some kind.
She looks... pissed. ]
So this ████ing sucks donkey— [She blinks, then squints.] Oh for ████'s sake, I can't even ████ing swear? ████. ████. ████ing ████-████ ████████████.
[ There's a pause of a few seconds before South visibly decides to test this thing's limits. ]
████trumpet. Bull████. ████biscuit. Dip████. ████face. Jack███. Fuck██████— ha, ████ed that one up.
Ugh, whatever. My name's South. Yes, that's a ████ing codename, no, I'm not telling you my real name. Guess I'm stuck here with the rest of... whoever the hell you guys are. Which ████ing sucks.
[ Not that things didn't suck where she came from, but at least she was something resembling free and kind of in control of how much stuff sucked. Call her old fashioned, but she'd much rather ruin her own life than have someone else do it for her. ]
no subject
Hey, that's your prerogative. I have it on good authority that eventually I'm tolerable to be around. That's more than a lot of people can say.
no subject
[ She does not at all look convinced by that assertion. ]
Maybe that 'good authority' just has really ████ty ████ing taste in people.
no subject
no subject
[ South can't really say anything. She has like, no friends. At least some people actually do consider Tucker tolerable. But does knowing that stop her being snarky and rude? Nope. ]
Yeah yeah, whatever makes you feel ████in' good about yourself.