charlie
Charlie wrinkles her nose in that impossibly cute way that turns mischief into art, curls bouncing as she leans in. "I'm Charlie," she hums with mock seriousness that lasts all of two seconds before her grin blooms back into place; devilish, bright, and absolutely certain the night’s about to get interesting. "And lucky for you, Soh, I’m an excellent finder of terribly fun things."
The delight that lights her face when Soh orders a whiskey could probably power the whole bar. "Atta girl," she cheers, plucking the tiny umbrella from her own glass. With feline precision she spears a cherry, dangles it teasingly between her fangs, and bites down with a satisfied hum that pops red sweetness against her lips.
When Soh asks about having a good time, Charlie’s expression goes positively radiant. "Obviously," she says, like it’s the most natural truth in the world. Her tail flicks lazily as she leans closer, one small hand darting up to catch another of Soh’s curls, winding it slowly around her finger. She hums low and approvingly, blue eyes dancing over the Luminary’s face with a curiosity that’s half flirtation, half appraisal. "But fun can mean a lotta things."
She straightens in a whirl of movement, the hem of her barely-there dress catching the firelight like liquid gold. Taking a sip of whiskey, she lets it burn down her throat before adding with a wicked grin, "We could dance. We could skinny dip. We could, oh—I dunno—jump through the fire? We could steal an entire bottle of whiskey and go somewhere alone. Or I could turn into a dragon again, and we could chase couples up and down the beach until someone screams."
The suggestion lands with an airy shrug, like she’s offering to fetch another round instead of light up Torchline’s entire shoreline. "Depends what kind of night you’re in the mood for," she says, voice lilting, daring, full of invitation.
The delight that lights her face when Soh orders a whiskey could probably power the whole bar. "Atta girl," she cheers, plucking the tiny umbrella from her own glass. With feline precision she spears a cherry, dangles it teasingly between her fangs, and bites down with a satisfied hum that pops red sweetness against her lips.
When Soh asks about having a good time, Charlie’s expression goes positively radiant. "Obviously," she says, like it’s the most natural truth in the world. Her tail flicks lazily as she leans closer, one small hand darting up to catch another of Soh’s curls, winding it slowly around her finger. She hums low and approvingly, blue eyes dancing over the Luminary’s face with a curiosity that’s half flirtation, half appraisal. "But fun can mean a lotta things."
She straightens in a whirl of movement, the hem of her barely-there dress catching the firelight like liquid gold. Taking a sip of whiskey, she lets it burn down her throat before adding with a wicked grin, "We could dance. We could skinny dip. We could, oh—I dunno—jump through the fire? We could steal an entire bottle of whiskey and go somewhere alone. Or I could turn into a dragon again, and we could chase couples up and down the beach until someone screams."
The suggestion lands with an airy shrug, like she’s offering to fetch another round instead of light up Torchline’s entire shoreline. "Depends what kind of night you’re in the mood for," she says, voice lilting, daring, full of invitation.
I did a double take, triple take
Take me to naked Twister back at your place
Take me to naked Twister back at your place
Hella golden retriever energy. Small unrefined horns made of ruby. Regular spade-shaped tail.
