Something from RP that I dug up - written long ago and with a lot of "casual" grammar and punctuation so I apologize for both ahead of time :)
The day had passed by unnoticed as she slept off the late night gig. The exhaustion in her bones as much from the worry as the actual playing.
Mahogany lashes finally cracked open when hair began to tickle the inside of her nose as she breathed. Grunting softly she pushed on the furball that was curled up on her throat, tail whisking over her nose in response.
“ Gimme a break Caesar….”
The complaint was half-hearted as she rolled onto her stomach and he scurried out of the way to not get crushed, chattering his discontent before marching up her bare back to flop upside down like a rag doll on her head. The chuckle was buried in the pillow as she reached up to pluck the ferret from her skull, pushing up to reach for the button on the top of her clock. As the worn button depressed a very robotic male voice declared it “3:15 pm”. It was the one and only “blind” thing she owned, she had a watch with no glass over the face where she could feel the time, but after a night of heavy playing she never knew if the damn thing was telling her an am or pm hour.
Ball of fur was swung by the hind legs before being tossed onto the bed as she climbed out of the nest of sheets and blankets. Long fingers scratching at the ink between her shoulder blades as she made for the tiny bathroom to take a frigid shower. One day she would live in a place with running hot water again.
Hair still dripping down her naked torso, she perched in an open window of her seventh floor apartment, long fingers idly picking on her Fender without the amp attached. Eerie hazed eyes “watched” out into the world, brows frowning as she went over what had happened the night before.
She had always known she was hiding… deep down… hiding from the world that had changed so much just when she had learned how to live so fully in it.
Now she was wasting away, her talent unable to really explode with the mediocre bars she was playing. Worse, for the first time in her life she was letting her sightless eyes be a handicap, becoming downright agoraphobic, scared of the world outside her door.
Head thunked against the window frame. She needed to find her balls again.
Small paws on her bare foot drew a smirk as she “looked” down at him.
“ Just a figure of speech Caes….”
...as if he had heard her thoughts. Slipping out of the window she tucked the Fender back into its case. She was going to mid-town today, that’s all there was to it. She refused to turn into everything she had despised growing up.
Her obsessively organized closet let her put her hands on exactly what she wanted at all times. Well worn jeans were yanked over bare cheeks before she pulled on a pair of knee high boots that buckled down the outside, thick soles giving her another two inches on her already six foot height. Deft fingers ran along the tops hanging at the back of her closet. Her entire wardrobe bathed in muted earths, grays and black to ensure anything matched with everything. Finding a soft tan tank, forgoing the bra as her lean form didn’t really need one, the girls still perky. Besides, she was pulling on her brown leather jacket anyway.
A comb was run through the damp brown locks. The advantage of her straight long layered hair was it dried sexy disheveled no matter what she did to it, the ends shaken to clear the worst of the water before she let them fall to the middle of her back. Chap stick the extent of her makeup.
Satisfied she was “decent”, she headed into the living room to play with the furball. If she didn’t exhaust him, he had a habit of stowing away in her pockets or following her when she left. With the “child” tucked up asleep on her pillow, a battle she long ago had given up, she rummaged in her dresser drawer for the last of her cash which was oddly folded into patterns that told her precisely what each bill was, snatching the leather jacket and her opaque sun glasses, she headed out to face the world.