COLT
The cold that sweeps in suddenly causes her sure step to pause for a moment, the scissors in hand feeling more like ice than metal as the heat leaves them the quickest. More than a bottle chilling trick, it'd seem. Perhaps the steep angle of the stare he threw her should have been indicator enough that she'd overstepped, but her boldness steeped in liquor fights off some of his chill. The fact that he remains, stilling as required, makes it seem like the crawl of ice is one of those downs he mentioned, rather than the startled warning of a man accustomed to keeping his distance. So she returns to her motions, concentration back to the fabric in hand, frosty shears gliding along the material easily. It's only crooked at the end where she crouched too late to extend her reach properly.
"I would not go tacking that title to my name," she laughs as she stands back up and sets the scissors down on the table. "I think anyone can cut a bit of fabric. Kind of like wrapping a present, better to go too long to start and trim from there once you get all the corners tucked in tight." Which is not to say that Colt considers Jack a gift, but he might as well attend looking good enough to unwrap as opposed to whatever the hell Bassian is wearing, which makes her want to throw more onto him instead of the opposite. She lingers, looking up and down at the curtain of darkness fitted to him, reaching out to tug more centered onto one shoulder. Although he looks more like someone who ran out of a haircut too early than a man commanding mystery, at least it covers all of him. Baby steps. "Better than a ballerina," she commends with a final nod, one cheek dimpling with a smile.
"Alright, do me," she asks tells, lifting up the sheerer version of cloth she'd selected. "Just make sure it's doubled up enough that I don't end up flashing the entire party by mistake." She stands straight in expectation, not entirely convinced he won't prick her with a pin by mistake.
"I would not go tacking that title to my name," she laughs as she stands back up and sets the scissors down on the table. "I think anyone can cut a bit of fabric. Kind of like wrapping a present, better to go too long to start and trim from there once you get all the corners tucked in tight." Which is not to say that Colt considers Jack a gift, but he might as well attend looking good enough to unwrap as opposed to whatever the hell Bassian is wearing, which makes her want to throw more onto him instead of the opposite. She lingers, looking up and down at the curtain of darkness fitted to him, reaching out to tug more centered onto one shoulder. Although he looks more like someone who ran out of a haircut too early than a man commanding mystery, at least it covers all of him. Baby steps. "Better than a ballerina," she commends with a final nod, one cheek dimpling with a smile.
"Alright, do me," she asks tells, lifting up the sheerer version of cloth she'd selected. "Just make sure it's doubled up enough that I don't end up flashing the entire party by mistake." She stands straight in expectation, not entirely convinced he won't prick her with a pin by mistake.
If I go missing, don't bother looking, I'm probably just riding the wind
'Cause cowboys and sunsets, you can always count on them, but never to stay
I guess I'm a cowboy, 'cause there's a sunset on the way
'Cause cowboys and sunsets, you can always count on them, but never to stay
I guess I'm a cowboy, 'cause there's a sunset on the way
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
