[ semi-open ] This...is...Caketown!
WHO: Temari (fortebrezza), anyone Temari invites/invited to have some cake.
WHERE: her apartment
WHEN: afternoon, June 1st
WHAT: Temari has surplus cake and decides to give it out...oh but of course not without a little ulterior motive!
Pushing back against the floor with her feet, Temari let the backing of her chair bump against the wall, then came to lean like that when she was confident that she wouldn’t slip and fall. On the table in front of her sat an elegant-looking cake stand adorned with a rather grand and grandiose chocolate mint take, from which there was a single slice missing. It had been a gift, sent from a “friend” of her father’s, apparently, one that had been trying to woo the girl since she was 12 and he had heard she would be shipped off to Italy one day. Pfft. As if Temari would fall for something like that. Still, it meant that she had no reason to fear the confection, that it might be poisoned, and so now, to one side sat the knife, to the other, a set of small plates and forks. She was waiting for company now, for strangers. She was relatively unconcerned with the fact that she’d given her address out so willingly; after all, this wasn’t her legal address. Simply the first floor apartment that she kept when she wanted to be away from the main house. If it became unsafe to live here, then she would simply vacate the premises and for now, she felt no sense intimidation as a result of her pending guests. There was something too innocent about the scenario for her to be too suspect, although she was already on her guard, just in case. She was always wary.
But, hey, she had been raised her entire life to put her life on the line for people she didn’t consider to be her family, but had to refer to as such. That was the life she had been given and she had little place to complain. While she pondered the possible repercussions of inviting strangers into a place where she slept, she glanced around, eyes flicking over the well-decorated walls. There were a few paintings, replicas mostly, just to liven up the atmosphere, hanging from the white walls. The dining room, kitchen, and living room were all connected, with a burgundy carpeting in the latter, and simulating stone tiling in the former two. From where she sat, she faced the door; to her left were two other doors, to the bathroom and living room respectively, while to her left were a line of windows looking out onto the street. It was small, and quaint, and moderately furnished with the usual things, like a couch, a coffee table, a dinner table, and all sorts of silverware and cookware. Not anything you’d expect, knowing the girl’s background. If you didn’t…well then, perhaps it would seem rather fitting.
That was far from important, though. Her safety was not a concern. She was confident in her own well being, and at the very least in her ability to defend herself. She was much better at the cunning and strategizing aspect of things, really, but she hadn’t been sent into this field not knowing how to pick up a fight, and any woman with two younger brothers really just ended up knowing how by that fact alone, spy or not. Of course Temari never did anything just to be nice. She was hoping, perhaps, to get something out of this…a tidbit of information, and important friend-because goodness knew how important it was to know the right people at the right time-and maybe she’d get nothing, but at least she could say that she had tried, and had gotten rid of the cake.
WHERE: her apartment
WHEN: afternoon, June 1st
WHAT: Temari has surplus cake and decides to give it out...oh but of course not without a little ulterior motive!
Pushing back against the floor with her feet, Temari let the backing of her chair bump against the wall, then came to lean like that when she was confident that she wouldn’t slip and fall. On the table in front of her sat an elegant-looking cake stand adorned with a rather grand and grandiose chocolate mint take, from which there was a single slice missing. It had been a gift, sent from a “friend” of her father’s, apparently, one that had been trying to woo the girl since she was 12 and he had heard she would be shipped off to Italy one day. Pfft. As if Temari would fall for something like that. Still, it meant that she had no reason to fear the confection, that it might be poisoned, and so now, to one side sat the knife, to the other, a set of small plates and forks. She was waiting for company now, for strangers. She was relatively unconcerned with the fact that she’d given her address out so willingly; after all, this wasn’t her legal address. Simply the first floor apartment that she kept when she wanted to be away from the main house. If it became unsafe to live here, then she would simply vacate the premises and for now, she felt no sense intimidation as a result of her pending guests. There was something too innocent about the scenario for her to be too suspect, although she was already on her guard, just in case. She was always wary.
But, hey, she had been raised her entire life to put her life on the line for people she didn’t consider to be her family, but had to refer to as such. That was the life she had been given and she had little place to complain. While she pondered the possible repercussions of inviting strangers into a place where she slept, she glanced around, eyes flicking over the well-decorated walls. There were a few paintings, replicas mostly, just to liven up the atmosphere, hanging from the white walls. The dining room, kitchen, and living room were all connected, with a burgundy carpeting in the latter, and simulating stone tiling in the former two. From where she sat, she faced the door; to her left were two other doors, to the bathroom and living room respectively, while to her left were a line of windows looking out onto the street. It was small, and quaint, and moderately furnished with the usual things, like a couch, a coffee table, a dinner table, and all sorts of silverware and cookware. Not anything you’d expect, knowing the girl’s background. If you didn’t…well then, perhaps it would seem rather fitting.
That was far from important, though. Her safety was not a concern. She was confident in her own well being, and at the very least in her ability to defend herself. She was much better at the cunning and strategizing aspect of things, really, but she hadn’t been sent into this field not knowing how to pick up a fight, and any woman with two younger brothers really just ended up knowing how by that fact alone, spy or not. Of course Temari never did anything just to be nice. She was hoping, perhaps, to get something out of this…a tidbit of information, and important friend-because goodness knew how important it was to know the right people at the right time-and maybe she’d get nothing, but at least she could say that she had tried, and had gotten rid of the cake.