Tamare
Commoner
Sorrel Malmsey - Rogue
Insert Spiffy Title Here
Posts: 9
|
Post by Tamare on Sept 16, 2006 3:06:33 GMT -5
Sorrel Malmsey sat in his usual shadowy corner of the 'Dove, around seven empty shot glasses at him elbow. Dimly he wondered how much this little night out would set him back, but he'd been getting a decent amount of work this past month, and he hadn't payed for a meal in over a week, so the blow shouldn't be that hard.
He downed his eighth (or was it his ninth?) shot and looked around, wondering if there were any pretty ladies he could charm tonight. Or men; it didn't really make any difference to him.
Shifting position, he brought one leg up onto the arm of the chair - what he described as a 'comfortable position'. Sprawled across the seat like that, any person with sense would run away at the sight and never return.
|
|
|
Post by Jazz on Sept 16, 2006 5:26:56 GMT -5
The door of the Dancing Dove opened violently, and in stormed Katrina DeMenzes. She didn't seem to be very happy at all. In fact, she was most definatly unhappy. Gone was the cheerful, flirtatious woman most of the Dove patrons knew and loved. Instead, she looked significantly devastated. You could see it on her face. Kat being a Player, and actress, was prone to violent mood swings, so the patrons that knew her (and many did) didn't bat an eyelash. She'd be happy again in a few minutes. She also happened to be prone to dramatics, so when she was unhappy, everyone knew it.
She took of her hat, clutching it to her chest, and made straight for the bar. She was a beautiful woman, indeed. Black shoulder-length braids framed a face of fair complexion. Her features were sharp, but they suited her, and her dark eyes were completely expressive of her unhappiness. She sat herself down on a barstool, nodding to the bartender, who then placed a glass in front of her. Why yes, Katrina was attractive and talented. But nobody ever said she couldn't get dead drunk.
The sighed as she swivvled around, glass in hand, to look at her surroundings. She was visibly relaxing, not screaming blue murder anymore. She recognized most. She wasn't a rogue herself, but she was on good terms with many of them. She was well known, especially in lower Corus. She cracked a smile. Who cared if they had no more funding? She was home, here. At the end of the day, all she needed was this welcome environment.... and perhaps a glass of liquer...
|
|
Tamare
Commoner
Sorrel Malmsey - Rogue
Insert Spiffy Title Here
Posts: 9
|
Post by Tamare on Sept 17, 2006 2:21:55 GMT -5
There was an audible thump as Sorrel slid off his chair and onto the floor, startled by the extravagant entry of a woman who, from his position wound up like a pretzel on the floor, looked familiar. Untangling one leg from around his neck, he tried another look, but she seemed to have moved. Heaving himself up onto the chair and trying to dodge the strange looks from other patrons of the Dancing Dove, it was a few moments before he got a good look at Katrina DeMenzies.
It was quite a few moments after that before he could decide whether he should call out to her. It was a matter of moods, or rather, which one the player was in at the present moment. And whether Sorrel was ready to recieve an earbashing for trying to snuggle up to her. Maybe today... he squinted, trying to see her expression. Her posture was a relaxed one, but one could never be so sure.
"Trina baby..." he called out in his usual flirtatious way. It was worth the risk to show that he was open to whatever the player wanted to throw his way. The woman was decidedly one of the most beautiful things he'd seen, and she knew it too. it was all in her stance - the way she walked, talked, and most of all, the way she acted. Extravagantly, given, but who was he to complain? "Come give me some company."
OOC: Sorry if there was too much GM in that; I was just going off her bio.
|
|
|
Post by Jazz on Sept 17, 2006 5:06:32 GMT -5
Kat raised the glass to her lips, savouring the bitter taste of the alcohol. Gods, she loved it here. She knew the place like the back of her hand (which she incidentally knew quite well), and many of the regular customers. It might be a bit shady, for want of a better word, but it was home. She leant backwards as she looked out at the patrons, balancing herself with her elbows against the bar. None of her particularly good friends were here, but she got on well with most of the others.
Her head snapped snapped up at a call of "Trina baby..." Locating the voice's owner, she was unsure of whether to scowl of smile. It took a lot to make Katrina dislike you, and he hadn't reached boiling point. She arched a questioning eyebrow in response, tilting her head to one side. "Come give me some company," he called. She could feel the corners of her mouth tugging upwards in a smile. She debated with herself, but decided it couldn't hurt. Shrugging, she slid off the barstool, glass in hand, and made her way to the man's shadowy corner, her dark blue skirts swishing around her ankles.
"Can I help you?" she enquired, brushing some stray locks of hair out of her eyes. Curiosity always got the better of her. Besides, she was always up for a conversation - be it playful banter or a heated arguement. She looked the young man over. She'd always thought he was too thin for his own good, and had wondered how he managed to survive in the rough-'n-tumble world of the rogue.
[nah, 's cool.]
|
|