born with salt on my skin
Ulterior motives are welcome. Anythin’ that gets hands on deck is welcome. Raza flashes Ray a surprised grin; she doesn’t think she’s seen the younger woman in awhile. “Good t’see ya, Ray. Thanks for comin’.” Then back t’the tarps, needle an’ thick, thick thread in ‘and. Next to show up is the stranger from the Ark, and again, the bar owner is surprised. “Aye, that’d be great,” she affirms an’ then adds after a moment. “‘M Raza, by the way.” And last but not least is an utter stranger, though she drops Phoebe’s name an’ it helps because otherwise, Raza would have no idea which box in ‘er head t’put her in. Ain’t many in the crazy makeup box, but that can kinda fit against the Halenani box, so somewhere in there the courtesan goes. “‘S kind of her,” Raza admits with a raise of her brows, introducin’ herself again an’ keepin’ just the teensiest eye on the her work with the door.
She manages t’finish with the tarps with the thread only breaking once, which allows her t’move on to the sandbags with
Now, it probably isn’t Maeve’s fault, just some bad luck, but the wood she’s handling isn’t the kind she’s used to - it’s excessively rough and has left a couple’a splinters in one of her soft hands. The piece she’s workin’ on is bigger ‘n the regular door, which swings (minor details that should have been explained before), an’ it would obviously be better if it was tag-teamed.
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No post order. You got your assignments!
and the sea in my blood
RAZA
