Coming here had not been easy. That's an irritating truth that brushes up against her like a rasp of scales rather than fur. She can't keep narrowing her world into just the spaces that are soft and shiny, especially not when they can dull in an instant, so she sets the decision between her teeth and bears down on it. She steps into the Inner Quarter with all the intent of shouldering past discomfort and breaking through to the other side of it.
She slaps up her notice on the board. The action's like surfacing from underwater, forcing her to inhale deeply, and for a moment she lingers there with her palm over the paper. A quiet laugh slips out, harried free by nerves and absurdity, and as it rises so too does her hand that threads through her hair. It's unclear if it's peace or madness that's claimed her, maybe a bit of both, but after the mirth unstitches her side she finally steps away and retreats further into the city.
The threat of losing control here suddenly doesn't carry so much weight. Can't ruin what's already in pieces. She doesn't have many options left either, sun's sinking, so it's either hole up in a place she doesn't trust, or face a different discomfort. There's testing limits, and then there's breaking on them—she hasn't seen the stars in weeks and she doesn't plan to break that streak tonight. Instead, she slips into the most familiar skin she can find in this place, a bar.
The Last Whisper is a place alive with a familiar buzz. Shops, some odd and unique, beckon with flame and colored awnings, but the strike of her boots takes her to the roar of a crowd that's racing sunset to drunk. It boasts a little kitchen in the back, her eyes drifting over waiters delivering potato skins and artichoke dips. Her attention is drawn to the bar top though, particularly to the shots that are on fire. Literally, on fire. Her brow quirks as she leans in on the counter with her elbows, slouching her chin into her palm as she watches Ancients and non-Ancients alike shoot the burning liquor. "One of those," she says to the barkeep with a nod towards the spectacle. "Blanco too," as a chaser, as she's no idea what's in the other.
She slaps up her notice on the board. The action's like surfacing from underwater, forcing her to inhale deeply, and for a moment she lingers there with her palm over the paper. A quiet laugh slips out, harried free by nerves and absurdity, and as it rises so too does her hand that threads through her hair. It's unclear if it's peace or madness that's claimed her, maybe a bit of both, but after the mirth unstitches her side she finally steps away and retreats further into the city.
The threat of losing control here suddenly doesn't carry so much weight. Can't ruin what's already in pieces. She doesn't have many options left either, sun's sinking, so it's either hole up in a place she doesn't trust, or face a different discomfort. There's testing limits, and then there's breaking on them—she hasn't seen the stars in weeks and she doesn't plan to break that streak tonight. Instead, she slips into the most familiar skin she can find in this place, a bar.
The Last Whisper is a place alive with a familiar buzz. Shops, some odd and unique, beckon with flame and colored awnings, but the strike of her boots takes her to the roar of a crowd that's racing sunset to drunk. It boasts a little kitchen in the back, her eyes drifting over waiters delivering potato skins and artichoke dips. Her attention is drawn to the bar top though, particularly to the shots that are on fire. Literally, on fire. Her brow quirks as she leans in on the counter with her elbows, slouching her chin into her palm as she watches Ancients and non-Ancients alike shoot the burning liquor. "One of those," she says to the barkeep with a nod towards the spectacle. "Blanco too," as a chaser, as she's no idea what's in the other.
Colt
Hole in your heart with some good aim
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.
