you called me sugar, you called me sugar

[justsookie]

For all that her eyes were round as saucers for the first few hours after the change, Sookie Stackhouse all too quickly learns that there are some aspects of this new, tired city that are harder to adjust to than others. Last year, snow was nothing short of novel, beautiful as it fell from the sky and blanketed everything in a pristine layer of white. This year, a close glance shows that it's all grayed, suffering from soot and grime that mars the perfection of the flakes. People trip left and right, no matter how hard they try to hold to their canes— the ones rich enough to have them in the first place, at least. Occasionally, people loiter on the streets, some of them looking cold, miserable, pulling their coats as closely as possible around her necks. If she had the means, Sookie would drag all of them into the nearest shelter, but there seems to be something about the populace. They're not altogether there. Not reachable, notihng but smoke under her fingers.

Somehow, that gets under her skin as much as the rest of it.

Hauling damp skirts to the Compound is no small task, either, and when Sookie finally manages to close the front door of the new building, she heaves a heavy sigh, shivering and quickly rubbing her arms down as she steps further inside. Dressed in a muted gold gown, Sookie heaves a sigh as she makes her way to the box, hoping to find a heavier shawl to protect her from the cold.