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+--- Thread: blue tide pulling me under — private (/showthread.php?tid=1280)
blue tide pulling me under — private - tinsel - 05-12-2018
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drinking to forget was perhaps a less than healthy habit, but anyone who looked at the blonde wouldn't dare argue that she ought to have to remember very much. her body is marred with scars that she doesn't try to hide, and every now and then, a haunted sort of look creeps into the young woman's dusty eyes. she wears these scars for the world to see not out of pride, there's nothing to be proud about decades of torture, but because it removes the shock value quickly. if she hid them, then just flashed them one day, people would do a double take. they'd be shocked, horrified, at the evidence of whips and knives, guns and stones. if they see it upon first meeting, see that she doesn't care about them, it normalizes it in a way. uneducated and illiterate as she may be at times, she was smart in her decision making.
she walks into the bar, and people don't gawk. a few, ones who might not have seen her up close or might be newer, they stare for a few seconds. their eyes linger on the way the marks cover her, but they see how she wears her hair up, how she wears a loose black camisole that dips low on the back to show the worst of the scarring, and they see how she doesn't hide it. this isn't something forbidden to look at, it's public domain, and they promptly loose interest, like always. hips swaying with each step, arms swinging at her sides, she's thin but still feminine, still powerful. you don't get scars like those and remain unable to throw a solid punch.
the barkeep gets to her quickly, produces some fruity orange drink in a strange tall glass. something that tastes good generally results in a drink like this - colorful, funny glass, with some sort of sweet or fruity taste and, every now and then, a pretty little umbrella on it. she smiles when she see's the umbrella on this one, and makes a move that you might not initially expect of someone who looks like they'd been beaten half to death on a dozen occasions. she licks the toothpick clean, then sticks it into the base of her ponytail, wearing it like a party hat and smiling just a bit at it, not quite caring if the action seemed childish to any onlookers. she wasn't out trying to make new friends, sex and romance weren't really her things, and frankly, she couldn't give a shit if anyone wanted to judge her. one thing, one very predominant thing about bianca's personality, something that always stood out, was that, while she served gryffingate, she sought to please only herself off the clock. so she painted, though she sucked at it. she took things apart with no intention to put them back together. and she put little umbrella's in her hair because it made her smile.
her eyes roamed the bar, which wasn't crowded but did have enough people that meant she'd have to sit near someone. and, though she could be sociable most days, she wasn't very big on small talk. she didn't need to sit down and have someone rope her into niceties that would bore her to death. her eyes did land on someone who was, generally, fairly interesting: their sovereign. taking a sip of her drink, she drew her wrist to her mouth to wipe her upper lip and perched herself on the edge of the booth across from him, offering him a polite smile. "is it okay if i sit on your imaginary friend's lap?" she inquired, tone light and joking, but still warm as her eyes traced the older man's features, hoping he wouldn't mind company as much as she tended to.
( this is a mess, don't feel like you have to match mate! [member=403]Frederick[/member] )
Re: blue tide pulling me under — private - Orion - 05-20-2018
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The sovereign had also gathered in the bar, presumably to drink away the problems of life, just as she might of done many times. Hell, he might of even looked like shit while doing so. Then again, who came to a bar looking fancy? They weren't popping champagne bottles. So instead of fancy getup, Frederick had donned a white collared shirt, silver chain, and black khakis with the simplest of tennis shoes. The fanciest of royal clothing, really. Yet, somehow he was spotted.
When the voice met his ears, he grumbled lowly under his breath. For once in his lifetime, he didn't want someone breathing down his neck, but here he was, being pleased by what... some lady? His hazel gaze shifted away from the glass of whiskey in his palm and onto Bianca. Her words did not bring a smile upon his face. To him, it seemed as if he was being mocked for his lack of trustees, but he only stayed silent about that. Instead, he mimicked a smile like hers in response. Not a kind one, at that.
As she perched herself, his eyes traced her body up and down, finally meeting her eyes when she got settled and comfortable. "I don't mind," he responded back deeply. 'Of course I mind.' "Bianca, darling, I don't think we've officially met, anyways." While she was his newest general, he still did not find the time to officially introduce himself. Her silent activity was enough for him. Still, he needed to provoke some friendships. "Sit like a proper lady and get a drink on me." His tone was obvious sarcasm, as sexism was never his thing. "We've got plenty of time to talk before the Blackfallen get to our city," Frederick joked.
Mimicking for the bartender to come over, he craned his head. "So," he continued on with his schpeel, "How are you?"
//hnng sorry, i didn't check my mentions
Re: blue tide pulling me under — private - tinsel - 05-20-2018
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for half a second, she contemplated just... walking away. she was bad at social interactions, it seemed the man wasn't in a very social mood, and maybe if he'd been anyone else, she would have. instead, some sense of social binding kept her boots glued to the floor, and it was only because the man wasn't just anyone that she stayed put.
sit like a proper lady, he prompted, and she laughed at that. sliding back on the seat, posture straight by nature, she offered a slight smile and a quirk of her brow as she sipped the colorful drink in her hand, shrugging a shoulder. "my apologies, sir, they didn't really teach us manners where i'm from." saying please and thank you was certainly a hell of an adjustment, but she liked to think she was getting better at remembering those things, and not seeming like a total heathen.
at his comment about the blackfallen, though, bianca scowled just a bit, setting the glass down in front of her. "you shouldn't worry about them." she dismissed immediately, shaking her head, as though he'd expressed fear over the threat butterflies might pose. "there are things far scarier than children with their panties in a twist." she wasn't covering any fear - the blonde genuinely lacked any fear of the rebel faction. maybe she was brave, maybe she was stupid, or maybe she'd just been conditioned out of fear. the things she'd seen, done, endured, they made blackfall seem like a daycare in her eyes.
he asked how she was, and she could have answered all sorts of things. trying out therapy, and apparently i have issues with my feelings, or a woman at a makeup counter offered to show me how to cover up my scars and now i have to deal with that new emotional baggage. instead, she only shrugged a shoulder, because her little problems weren't really anything for the man to worry about. "i signed up for a spinning class, that's about it." it was easier that way, keeping her issues to herself. "how about you? what drives a king to a little place like this?"