// You could be lonely, or heartbroken—Or hungover from the night before //
Hawthorn 's words sweep in with the same quality of light pouring over a darkened corner, adamant and altering. The prospect that they'll get more time together, as opposed to idling her time in the House bar while he finishes his increased workload, causes an immediate gush of delight. "That's the best reason for this I've heard yet." She turns her smile his way, each of their grins traded for a moment.
As they browse the stall, she occasionally stops to properly scan the wares, fingertips reaching out to brush a pair of dangling opal earrings, lift up a sapphire speckled ring, or turn over a silver charm bracelet. "You should spread the wealth," she mutters playfully, a put on sigh soon following suit. "Some of us got bad eyes and terrible taste." Her thoughts have strayed off jewelry by this point, though her gaze lifts to assess his choker try-on with a smile flashing out in approval.
"Once everyone has houses and basic necessities," Colt hums of the desert, lifting up a diamond necklace for a moment. "A gambling den." She offers the answers with no alteration to her tone, as if it's as ordinary a consideration as a rookery for mail. "Out in the Boneyard, to keep the debauchery from spilling over into the main town. Allows people a sense of seclusion as well." The diamond necklace returns to its display on the rack, and Colt fists her hands in her coat pockets as she scans the other stalls for interest. "We'll need the income, and the attraction to pull the business and the trade. There might be gambling halls all around Caido, but this one's gonna be bigger and better."
As they browse the stall, she occasionally stops to properly scan the wares, fingertips reaching out to brush a pair of dangling opal earrings, lift up a sapphire speckled ring, or turn over a silver charm bracelet. "You should spread the wealth," she mutters playfully, a put on sigh soon following suit. "Some of us got bad eyes and terrible taste." Her thoughts have strayed off jewelry by this point, though her gaze lifts to assess his choker try-on with a smile flashing out in approval.
"Once everyone has houses and basic necessities," Colt hums of the desert, lifting up a diamond necklace for a moment. "A gambling den." She offers the answers with no alteration to her tone, as if it's as ordinary a consideration as a rookery for mail. "Out in the Boneyard, to keep the debauchery from spilling over into the main town. Allows people a sense of seclusion as well." The diamond necklace returns to its display on the rack, and Colt fists her hands in her coat pockets as she scans the other stalls for interest. "We'll need the income, and the attraction to pull the business and the trade. There might be gambling halls all around Caido, but this one's gonna be bigger and better."
COLT
// Turn that frown into a smile real quick—There ain't nothin' that a beer can't fix //
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.
