[Introduction] There's no need for red-hot pokers.

[x_postal_ines]

They had been getting on with it, over and over again. The game had been repeated so often that she knew it all by heart, like an actor's set of lines in a play.  Now, it was Garcin's turn to speak - but those words were not his, really, they were hers, stolen. Had he been ever anything else but that, a coward? A thief? Stealing Estelle's attention

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[scionofkushiel]

We've been waiting for this opportunity. >>

Melisande has a bit of a sense. Not a supernatural one, and likely not one she's even aware of, but nonetheless...she seems to sense those like her, and be inexorably drawn to them, wherever she may find them. Perhaps it is the laugh, though. It makes her smile.

They might find each other eventually, in a hallway, and Melisande pauses, smiles faintly.

"Good afternoon."

eheheheheheheh.

[x_postal_ines]

Ines gives her a long appraising look, through the cloud of smoke. Not sure what to make of this one, she is. But she's lovely - a bit too dark haired - and she's going to spot the missing finger quickly. But still.

"And to you," she replies.

[scionofkushiel]

"I don't believe I've seen you before?" Striking, certainly, and she returns the appraising coolly, expression striving to show little or no interest. "I do have quite a memory for faces..."

[x_postal_ines]

Ines' look of bewilderment is quite innocent. "Oh, well --- I suppose it's never too late to correct it, isn't it? Besides, here, we have all the time in the world, to get to know each other..."

[scionofkushiel]

Her smile blooms, and it is definitely not quite an innocent one. "Of course - I would be gratified to take the time to know you, my dear."

[x_postal_ines]

Ines takes this in stride, observes her. "I'm not your dear. My name is Ines. I would prefer it you used it."

Not rejection - just clarification.

[scionofkushiel]

Eyebrows: up! But not necessarily in a bad way. "...of course...Ines. Whatever is your preference...Melisande, then."

[x_postal_ines]

"An intriguing name," she replies, head tilted. She does notice the clothes, but doesn't think much of them. It's hell, so attire is irrelevant. "So what did you do to end up here?"

[scionofkushiel]

That..seems an odd way of phrasing the question, but she answers it anyway. "I am sure I don't know. It just happened, as trite as that sounds...one moment I was in my home and the next...here."

[x_postal_ines]

Ines laughs, delightedly. "Of course - we're all perfectly innocent, aren't we?" The irony is audible in her voice.

[scionofkushiel]

"I know I am," Melisande says, solemnly, and entirely dishonestly, but her smile broadens, and she glides a little nearer. "Such terrible fates befall the innocent, do they not?"

[x_postal_ines]

"Of course," Ines replies, and she's not sure what to make of this one - she can feel the danger.

"The most terrible, gruesome, unjust fates," she muses. "Then again, when you're a damned bitch," and she says this of herself, "it doesn't matter at all."

[scionofkushiel]

Eyebrows, go up.

"Surely you are too unkind...to yourself."

[x_postal_ines]

Again, that laughter, musical and rather amused, a touch spiky, though.

"Oh, no - I do not. And I do not respond to flattery either. I know who I am and what I did - I have no regrets. Lucidity is my preference."

[scionofkushiel]

Eyebrows up, slightly, though only slightly. "What did you do, then?"

[x_postal_ines]

"I loved a little too much," she replies, shrugging. "And killed for it. I have no regrets."