That was the one thought bumbling through Penny Figgins' mind as she clocked out at the DCNN studio and crossed the rain-slicked pavement toward the subway line. It had been a long time since she had been in Destiny City -- years, literally, a couple of them -- and though at times she thought she missed it, returning here after traveling abroad covering war zones and humanitarian crises with a team of field reporters... well, it felt like a shitty hangover after an especially fun night of drinking.
Don't get her wrong -- she loved the studio life. She loved how interns fumbled over themselves to appease her. She was one of the youngest producers DCNN had, and all before she cracked 30. She had friends, a good job, great taste in booze, a decent apartment with the world's best cats, and a potty mouth and smoking habit that chased off the sort of people who would annoy her anyway. She had it all!
Yeah, she missed a lot of things about this place, she guessed. Kam, her cats, memories of Kurma -- though she batted those away.
But the thing she didn't miss at all was this ******** smell.
Oh yeah, and her magical allegiance to fight in a war that she was losing faith in every day. Being a magical knight was cool and all and definitely had its perks. Hell, overseas, she had flicked into her Cimmerian-self more times than she could count to get her reporters out of dodge, or to track down a particularly dangerous lead. But all the royalty and the pull of Pluto and the way people in weird costumes were constantly trying to ruin her day -- Penny had just had it. She was a news producer first, magical being second.
It hadn't been long since she had popped into her sparkly existence as the Cimmerian ~Squire~ that the opportunity had fallen into her lap to travel. She discussed it with Kam over beers, and within two weeks, she was gone. A six month foray became a year became two. Her stock had risen so high that national news was picking up on her stories. But wars end, at least outside of Destiny City. And when her lead anchor, the talented face that so many tuned in to hear, decided to take some time for a "personal life" -- whatever bullshit that is -- Penny Figgins was rolled right back to DCNN to continue producing, just without the glamour.
Heeled boots clicked noisily against the sidewalk as Penny hopped the curb. She took another drag of her cigarette and stabbed it out against the green railing to the subway. She had made it halfway down the stairs when she saw the caution tape: SUBWAY CLOSED DUE TO AN EARLIER INCIDENT.
"Of ******** course," she hissed, flicking open her cigarette pack and lighting another. Might as well make the best of it.
Teal eyes narrowed on the security camera across the way. It was hanging by its wires, sparking. No doubt thanks to the earlier incident that was undoubtedly some senshi v. Negaverse bullshit. A curse and a sigh escaped her chapped lips. Being extremely petite -- height-challenged, if you will -- Penny didn't have to stoop low to remove herself from line of sight of the street and... PRESTO CHANGE-O! She was the Cimmerian Squire. Which meant her magical a** could now comfortably jog home, smoking all the way. One of the perks of the unasked-for-job, she supposed.
Latching her bow to her back, Cimmerian picked up her cigarette pack and lighter from the ground, tucking them into one of the pouches at her waist. (She had learned that trick early in her transformation career.) She emerged from the subway station at a jog, her silvery-white hair whipping behind her in the wind, the cherry-red end of her cigarette burning brighter when she took a drag.
There was a park to the left with a vacant playground in the center -- better to keep away from the streetlamps. She hooked a left and began cutting through the grass, humming to herself and imagining which beer she would drink when she got home.
Sweenys_Revenge
