[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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[muchapoptosis]

In her wanderings she might as well come across a woman who looks pretty much like not-your-next-door Gothic Barbie -- which can be an intriguing mix if you're into this sort of stuff. She's usually wearing black leather, too, though typist is lazy and won't describe her current outfit for now.

[x_postal_ines]

We're not exactly sure what Ines thinks of Amber - but she'll be looking at her curiously. She does have nice boobs, and a nice tush. However, she's also a bit too dark-haired, perhaps, to her taste, though that can be fixed, she wagers.

So for now, she's looking and observing, and making notes. Being from a time that predates plastic surgery, Ines isn't taking an inventory of all the falseness, though - she's just not sure what she's looking at.

[muchapoptosis]

Amber is good at simply hanging about, without doing anything specific. She might lean on the bannister at the third floor, idling. When she notices the other woman, she'll look her up and down -- this one has no shame to speak of. "Who are you?"

[x_postal_ines]

Ines' eyes are at least partially judgmental - it's probably unsettling. "A rather philosophical question, for someone who can barely figure out how to spell," she replies, looking her up and down. "So much for the charm of mystery."

[muchapoptosis]

"Huh. And what would you know about my spelling?" She tilts her head. "There's a funny lot around with all sorts of 'special' powers -- maybe you're one of them, too?"

[x_postal_ines]

"Some things are obvious enough to require no special power at all," Inès replies lightly. "Just looking at you, I can tall that you're a pretty pot - but just that. Pretty, and empty."

[muchapoptosis]

An expression of pure disdain captures Amber's face. "Uh-huh, I hear you. Well luckily enough, I'm pretty, and that got me far enough until now."

[x_postal_ines]

"And where's that? In hell, like everyone else? Who did you kill, what did you do?" She takes a step forward, asking lightly, leisurely, "We all have shit on our conscience - what did your little empty pot do, to end up here, hmmm?"

[muchapoptosis]

"Christ. Get a grip, lady, will you?" Eyeroll, she doesn't understand this sudden talk of hell. "If you think you're in hell then keep it for yourself, there's no need to spread it around."

[x_postal_ines]

"Ah, so you're one of them." Tartly, with much contempt.

[muchapoptosis]

WTH. "One of whom, exactly? You have to be more specific, not everyone is as smart as you, it seems."

[x_postal_ines]

"One of those ostriches who live with their heads in the sand, of course."

[muchapoptosis]

Amber isn't sure she's ever seen an ostrich, or what she means exactly when she uses that word, but whatever. She shrugs. "I don't see your point. So we'd better just keep ignoring each other."

[x_postal_ines]

"It doesn't work that way," Ines informs her calmly. "And if you paid attention, you'd know that."

She smirks, and just for the fun of hitting a nerve... "You don't even know what an ostrich is, do you?"

[muchapoptosis]

"--the question is, should I care?" she drawls.

[x_postal_ines]

"I'd say that if someone calls you something, it might be in your best interest to know what. Then again, not caring would simply confirm that you are, indeed, an ostrich."