Camille made her way to The Blind Eye in the dark, later after the more discerning clientele would have already left for the night, long after anyone who would recognize her as the modiste had left, and only those who would allow her ample space to be whom she really was were left in the gaming house. She needed away from the indignities of the day, ones that had already had her drinking a rather rare vintage, a gift from a client, the lyrium infused mix smooth on the way down, but from experience, was not as kind on the way back up. She had taken care to space her drinking out so as to not have that happen on this night.
No, she needed Quinn, needed to bitch to him about the way her day went, because he truly would understand, provided that he wasn't with someone important this evening. That or off on some ... Initiative that made no sense in the slightest. Even so, she tipped the appropriate palms at the door and got pointed out to where her longest friend was that evening. Thankfully she hadn't pissed him off enough to be revoked access to his little play ground. Her path stopped at the bar as she crooked a finger for her private stash there, an old bottle of whisky that was older than her mother. For when nessecity called. And having it kept here for hereant she didn't find herself lost in it, and wake to an empty bottle in the morning.
Mounting the stairs two at a time in her bustle coat and slacks, finding the indicated room,and letting herself in. With a dramatic sigh, she flung herself down, face first into the fainting couch, and screamed into the velvet pillow, the pent up anger of the day almost gone. Her moment spent, she turned up on her side and put a hand to her forehead,
@Neology
No, she needed Quinn, needed to bitch to him about the way her day went, because he truly would understand, provided that he wasn't with someone important this evening. That or off on some ... Initiative that made no sense in the slightest. Even so, she tipped the appropriate palms at the door and got pointed out to where her longest friend was that evening. Thankfully she hadn't pissed him off enough to be revoked access to his little play ground. Her path stopped at the bar as she crooked a finger for her private stash there, an old bottle of whisky that was older than her mother. For when nessecity called. And having it kept here for hereant she didn't find herself lost in it, and wake to an empty bottle in the morning.
Mounting the stairs two at a time in her bustle coat and slacks, finding the indicated room,and letting herself in. With a dramatic sigh, she flung herself down, face first into the fainting couch, and screamed into the velvet pillow, the pent up anger of the day almost gone. Her moment spent, she turned up on her side and put a hand to her forehead,
I hate all these Maker damned rich people, do you what what this fool asked me today? "But is this purple too purple-ish?" Non, ma chere, it is the same shade of purple you will be when I strangle you!Taking a deep breath, she slouched into the plushness of the couch.
Please tell me you have some form of messy gossip to share that will make my night much better..
@Neology
07-29-2024, 10:24 PM
