COLT
Why not? could possibly be the most dangerous question that someone can ask, especially when inebriated. Unfortunately (?) for Soh, Colt is not above asking the same thing from time to time, although her current mood is much more along the lines of fuck it. 'Fuck it' can stand alone or be a precursor to 'why not?', strengthening it when they're combined. Between the two of them, they manage just that.
Colt's lips quirk up a bit at Soh's easy roll with the wind of the night, her gaze flicking back to the 'gentleman' with a nod. "Alright, if either of us win, we get your bottles of tequila." With a verbal agreement sealed, Colt slides away from the bar, drink in hand and Soh in her other, and they make their way to the table further in the bar. "Put this on," she murmurs to Soh, offering her one of the jackets still on her arm as she dons the navy cable knit sweater quickly. Bad time to be going braless, she laments briefly, but the general consensus of 'fuck it' remains true.
The game is just starting at a round table, full of chairs and men she doesn't recognize sprinkled throughout them. There's another girl or two interspersed, and wouldn't you know it, two seats just waiting for them. Strip poker ladies and gents, Texas Hold 'Em. one man in a hat and sunglasses explains around a cigarette, cards dealing out from his hand. Your clothes are your bets. Each round, highest ranking hand wins, everyone else loses one item of clothing. He pauses after everyone's been dealt in, nodding for understanding. Colt glances at Soh and winks, then tips her head in with a nod to the dealer. He flips three cards over in the center, burns the next, and flips another over, repeating until the river's there and it's five cards total.
"Fuck," Colt mutters, throwing her two cards onto the table with disgust and kicking off a boot, ready for the next hand as she sips at her drink.
Colt's lips quirk up a bit at Soh's easy roll with the wind of the night, her gaze flicking back to the 'gentleman' with a nod. "Alright, if either of us win, we get your bottles of tequila." With a verbal agreement sealed, Colt slides away from the bar, drink in hand and Soh in her other, and they make their way to the table further in the bar. "Put this on," she murmurs to Soh, offering her one of the jackets still on her arm as she dons the navy cable knit sweater quickly. Bad time to be going braless, she laments briefly, but the general consensus of 'fuck it' remains true.
The game is just starting at a round table, full of chairs and men she doesn't recognize sprinkled throughout them. There's another girl or two interspersed, and wouldn't you know it, two seats just waiting for them. Strip poker ladies and gents, Texas Hold 'Em. one man in a hat and sunglasses explains around a cigarette, cards dealing out from his hand. Your clothes are your bets. Each round, highest ranking hand wins, everyone else loses one item of clothing. He pauses after everyone's been dealt in, nodding for understanding. Colt glances at Soh and winks, then tips her head in with a nod to the dealer. He flips three cards over in the center, burns the next, and flips another over, repeating until the river's there and it's five cards total.
"Fuck," Colt mutters, throwing her two cards onto the table with disgust and kicking off a boot, ready for the next hand as she sips at her drink.
I ain't sayin' that I always sleep alone
Done a little bit of midnight movin' on
I never let my heart go all the way
I never fall in love, baby, just in case
Done a little bit of midnight movin' on
I never let my heart go all the way
I never fall in love, baby, just in case
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.
