[closed] there's a still in the street outside your window
Who: jazzmurderess and paysdelamour
When: Sunday, May 22nd
Where: Francis's place
Summary: Francis invites Roxie over for dinner, and she's not just looking forward to the food.
Warnings: F for flirting. No, seriously. This will likely be ridiculous.
Seven o'clock sharp, and Roxie is not about to be late for her little date with Francis-not least of all because she's terrified of the possibility of being caught outside during the Darkness. It's with that thought in mind that she hastens over to Francis's building, consulting a scrap of paper on which she has written the directions he gave her-but not so quickly so as to cause her to break into a sweat. God forbid. Still, it would be a shame, since she's all dolled up in a new dress bought with money received from the Newcomer Fund-not that she's admitting that to anyone. It's baby blue, and far more modern than she's used to, with a scoop neck designed to flaunt her modest cleavage, and a hemline that hits just below mid-thigh. She's done her blonde hair up in pin-curls, a look which someone in the Tower complimented her on as being very 'vintage.' Topped off with red lipstick, she thought she looked pretty damn good for someone who was still jobless.
She really should get on that little detail, she thinks as she ducks into the lobby of Francis's building and runs a finger down the row of buttons, a name beside each one. Smiling as she finds his name, she presses it neatly to signal to him that she's arrived, and waits patiently in front of the door, checking her teeth in her reflection in the glass.
When: Sunday, May 22nd
Where: Francis's place
Summary: Francis invites Roxie over for dinner, and she's not just looking forward to the food.
Warnings: F for flirting. No, seriously. This will likely be ridiculous.
Seven o'clock sharp, and Roxie is not about to be late for her little date with Francis-not least of all because she's terrified of the possibility of being caught outside during the Darkness. It's with that thought in mind that she hastens over to Francis's building, consulting a scrap of paper on which she has written the directions he gave her-but not so quickly so as to cause her to break into a sweat. God forbid. Still, it would be a shame, since she's all dolled up in a new dress bought with money received from the Newcomer Fund-not that she's admitting that to anyone. It's baby blue, and far more modern than she's used to, with a scoop neck designed to flaunt her modest cleavage, and a hemline that hits just below mid-thigh. She's done her blonde hair up in pin-curls, a look which someone in the Tower complimented her on as being very 'vintage.' Topped off with red lipstick, she thought she looked pretty damn good for someone who was still jobless.
She really should get on that little detail, she thinks as she ducks into the lobby of Francis's building and runs a finger down the row of buttons, a name beside each one. Smiling as she finds his name, she presses it neatly to signal to him that she's arrived, and waits patiently in front of the door, checking her teeth in her reflection in the glass.