Just -Live- & .Breathe. *Try* Not to ::Die:: Again

marana_&cyra

“Back! I want to go back!” Cyra’s pleads continued down the street as they left the airport. She was being dragged by Marana. Their venture to Lockdown City is only to roam around, since Mother had to check up on a few things at her lab here. Marana attempted to console her twin, but its affect was dismal. She thrashed in her sister’s arms, and Marana needed to calm her soon—there was no telling when or even if her intoxication would start up and ultimately endanger everyone around.

On the way to Theranse, Cyra was little better off than how she was now. Although there were not many on the flight, since the Myst hindered much of business even though one would think the opposite, she had cause enough of an uproar that the obviously underpaid and “had something better to do” flight attendant came and bequested of her to remain calm and issue only silence—constantly and rather irritatingly. This, in all and any matter, worked miserably. If it was not for Marana around to calm her twin, the young femme would most likely have tasted the wrath of Cyra’s concealed beast within.

Marana pulled Cyra close in a fond and soothing embrace, and loosened enough to allow them to continue trekking down the sidewalk, following their mother. She rested her cheek on Cyra’s head, which was covered by a white, intricately kitted toboggan that effectively veiled her cat ears. Cyra, in turn, lie her strained head on her twin’s shoulder, able to do so because of her firm but comforting hold that required her to hunch over. Cyra’s fits immediately began to cease, and, as usual, she was reduced to a cascade of tears.

phoebe

Phoebe abruptly halted her advance, and spun on a heel to peer at her daughters. Cyra’s stopped, good, she praised inwardly, but refrained from saying such allowed. Voicing a phrase like that, no matter how mere of one, would only make her more distant from her beloved twins. They’re all I have, Phoebe concluded in her mind, a sentence that she repeated over and over as an explanation to everything she does, I don’t want to lose them.

She looked her daughters over, studying their appearance. Cyra always adorned the most complicated but nonetheless appealing attire. A toboggan; simple black eyeliner, the slightest hint of blue brushed her eyelids, and clear gloss that resided on her lips consisted of her make-up; and long gorgeous stainless steel and sapphire earrings that dangled only half an inch above her shoulder was all laden her head. She wore a navy pinstriped jacket reminiscent to a school coat, one of the three likewise color buttons was fastened, with sleeves cropped two inches below the elbow, a breast-pocket with a meaningless emblem, and several buttons pinned to her collar. Under this was slightly darker blue coarse collared-shirt, a red tie that hung from her neck, and a black leather belt that a pewter chain with a gold hue attached to and hung from. She wore a pleated plaid skirt with a red, blue, and gold scheme and smooth black leggings. Shiny, black leathered army boots was what pulled the entire thing together, effectively giving her a punk-ish, military girl air. If only it was not for the stream of tears would such a façade be possible to pull off.

Marana, on the other hand, had acquired a rather similar yet friendlier and tame aura from her choice of outfit, appealingly balancing her twin out. So little make-up was used that it seemed Marana adorned none at all, but she in fact chose to use a calm rose gloss and muted brown eye shadow and a very dismal application of eyeliner. A dull green collared-, button-up shirt that was a size or two too big was what dominated her upper-half. Various patches were dotted on the shirt, splashing the clothing with a color and making the shirt more interesting. The long sleeves had been rolled up to rest just above her elbow and the shirt was left open and unbuttoned with exception of the last five or six. Due to the open shirt over it, a royal purple V-neck could be seen. Simple deep blue denim skinny jeans, a sable belt, and completely ebony, slick, gossamer leather Hi-Tops was what was left of her attire.

Phoebe mentally smiled, since such an action was nigh impossible physically.

“Marana, Cyra, watch for yourselves for an hour or so—I’ll be back soon.” Phoebe ascertained, then spun around once more and began to walk away.

marana_&cyra

Marana made no sign that she understood her mother’s order, not even the slightest nod. But with the stare between the two, such was assured and known. She watched her mother walk away from she and Cyra, then reverted her attention back to her sniffling twin. Cyra had calmed down, and was at a state of awareness, her eyes darting about by even the most miniscule of movements. Her stance had altered now. From Marana’s shoulder she had moved to simply linking her arm with Marana’s, although still cautiously clinging close.

Marana let a small breath of air to let out her frustration over Mother’s decision to leave the two. She looked up to the buildings that lined the street, the nearest one that still seemed alive and not too much in the dumps was named “The Knife and Skillet.” Probably need to get off the streets.., Marana thought with tinge of distaste. Such was not entirely true, since there seemed to be no one about since was still considerably early in the morning. Six thirty, I think… Marana glanced to Cyra and gave her a warm smile before averting attention back to the pub and leading Cyra into it. The two were eighteen, but they had not intended on buying a drink anyway so it should not matter. They immediately spotted a desirable table—one that was distant from the door, while still off in the corner and away from where most of the soon-to-come ruckus would occur.

“Cyra, are you O.K.?” Marana asked in a hushed tone.

“Y-Yeah, I guess..,” she responded in a weak voice.

The two said no more, but remained in the comfortable presence of each other. Although Marana hoped that maybe someone friendly could possibly come along, but she expected nothing less that no one or quite possibly the complete opposite a welcoming, conversational stranger. Marana shook her head of such thoughts, since thinking of the worst could only result in the worst, this she knew from years of experience and coping with such happenings. Then again, their animalistic features were very much noticeable—with exception of Cyra's ears and Marana's legs—thus making them likely less approachable.

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As for teh twins' outfits, meh pretty much just used THIS pic as reference. Added that just in case the image wasn't clear... >.>