12-19-2018, 02:01 AM
―――― A warm, bright smile graced the woman's lips as her song came to a close and the applause began once more, briefly pausing as she shifted her feet behind her in a sort of playful half-curtsy as she bowed her head, "Enjoy the rest of your evening, everyone," she would speak easily, knowing there were likely still a few that stared upon her. For a moment, a singular moment she remained on stage, quickly thanking the band that had put in their time and effort to accompany the performers like her, before she turned and carefully retraced her steps to the edge of the stage platform, her toe pausing before the step before she made her way down carefully. Her dress lightly swayed as she moved, and her chocolate curls, put up into a neat little braided updo. Her steps were momentarily confident as she made her way back out into the main room and towards the door, but she stuck close to the wall, a pinpoint marker to avoid bumping into others or tables.
As far as the stereotypes of "disabled" persons, perhaps for a few moments she did defeat the stereotype; her voice had mesmerized the people of the crowd, and for those few fleeting moments, she had been something other than a blind face in the crowd. There were whispers, of course- Charlie would be correct in that assessment. In this era, disabilities of any sort were thought as wrong, or contagious in some capacity. Not all were bad, of course, but there were always a few, a few that were unshakable human beings, who wouldn't, or couldn't accept that people were different.
Unfortunately for Rhiannon, if you put those type of people together, along with copicous amounts of technically-now-illegal alcohol, it wasn't going to end well. "Hey, Sweetheart!" a slurred voice called, and for a moment Rhiannon continued on, assuming the voice to be for someone else. But as a hand reached out to grab her arm, she stopped short and pulled herself back quickly, "Excuse me, sir!" she would chime quickly, indignantly, as if he had been some kind of mistake. "Oh come on, don't you want to come have some fun?" the voice returned, followed by a low chuckling of a few of his other tipsy-friends, who looked like they too were struggling to stay upright. "I really must be getting home. Though I hope you enjoyed the show, and enjoy the rest of your nights," she answered promptly, flashing a smile before she hastened her pace towards the door. For a moment, it worked, moving quick enough to turn herself out of the doorframe and into the cold air of the late evening- or perhaps early morning- sky. She only made it a few steps out the door before she heard them again, "Hey! Where do you think you're going?" the voices yelled, and though Rhiannon could not see them, nor nothing else in front of her since there was no light to give her any indication of placement, it was all she could do to try and quicken her pace. The footsteps, however, followed, insistantly pounding the pavement behind her until she felt fingrs curl around her arm and pull her to a stop, instantly bringing herself to fight the grip that the stranger now had on her, "Hey! Let me go! What do you think you're doing?" She felt hands going for the pockets of her dress- wait, was she seriously being mugged right now? Sure, she had money on her, and sure, they had probably seen it- but seriously!? Her grip struggled, both perplexed as well as afraid, but the drunken man had an iron grip on her arm, "Y'could least give me a refund, you Ingrateful blind bat!" the man continued to slur, while late-night passerbys ducked their heads and moved quicker, nothing more than muted footsteps around Rhiannon.
As far as the stereotypes of "disabled" persons, perhaps for a few moments she did defeat the stereotype; her voice had mesmerized the people of the crowd, and for those few fleeting moments, she had been something other than a blind face in the crowd. There were whispers, of course- Charlie would be correct in that assessment. In this era, disabilities of any sort were thought as wrong, or contagious in some capacity. Not all were bad, of course, but there were always a few, a few that were unshakable human beings, who wouldn't, or couldn't accept that people were different.
Unfortunately for Rhiannon, if you put those type of people together, along with copicous amounts of technically-now-illegal alcohol, it wasn't going to end well. "Hey, Sweetheart!" a slurred voice called, and for a moment Rhiannon continued on, assuming the voice to be for someone else. But as a hand reached out to grab her arm, she stopped short and pulled herself back quickly, "Excuse me, sir!" she would chime quickly, indignantly, as if he had been some kind of mistake. "Oh come on, don't you want to come have some fun?" the voice returned, followed by a low chuckling of a few of his other tipsy-friends, who looked like they too were struggling to stay upright. "I really must be getting home. Though I hope you enjoyed the show, and enjoy the rest of your nights," she answered promptly, flashing a smile before she hastened her pace towards the door. For a moment, it worked, moving quick enough to turn herself out of the doorframe and into the cold air of the late evening- or perhaps early morning- sky. She only made it a few steps out the door before she heard them again, "Hey! Where do you think you're going?" the voices yelled, and though Rhiannon could not see them, nor nothing else in front of her since there was no light to give her any indication of placement, it was all she could do to try and quicken her pace. The footsteps, however, followed, insistantly pounding the pavement behind her until she felt fingrs curl around her arm and pull her to a stop, instantly bringing herself to fight the grip that the stranger now had on her, "Hey! Let me go! What do you think you're doing?" She felt hands going for the pockets of her dress- wait, was she seriously being mugged right now? Sure, she had money on her, and sure, they had probably seen it- but seriously!? Her grip struggled, both perplexed as well as afraid, but the drunken man had an iron grip on her arm, "Y'could least give me a refund, you Ingrateful blind bat!" the man continued to slur, while late-night passerbys ducked their heads and moved quicker, nothing more than muted footsteps around Rhiannon.
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we know nothing in reality