And once upon a time there was a fourth little girl. She is sitting across from the third, chin propped up by a hand and a butterfly (illusion) idly moving its wings in her hair. So far, Dollface has her entire (very curious attention.
Her nails are henna red, but that matches the patterns on her slender hands.
up to chance~theprisonkingAugust 4 2009, 04:37:43 UTC
And this little boy (though not so little anymore) is outfitted with a deck of cards and an otherwise spare table. (All lean muscle and bone and simply uncomfortable with the space because this is a place over which he has no control.)
If one of the cards happens to blow from the table and land by one of the girls' feet, well, call it coincidence.
(Prison isn't exactly gender-diverse, and at times the bar can be a little distracting.)
(OOC: My internet access is weird but he has to give her his gift.)
This boy has a gift for the girl shooting darts but isn't sure how to go about giving it to her so is watching while the mechanical kite flies around the rafters.
Mary Anne Bell, I choose you!aigiochosAugust 4 2009, 18:09:49 UTC
"Are those things really worth the trouble?" says a girl of 15 with electric blue eyes. She's wearing a white chiton, which comes to her knees, black combat boots and has a pair of hunting knives at her belt.
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It is entirely possible she might bump some other lady's table as she wanders. She's people-watching more than she's path-watching.
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It throws Kite's aim off, and she frowns, a curse forming on her lips even as she looks up to see just who cost her that shot.
So much for that frown.
"Well, hello."
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Sweetheart doesn't; either she didn't notice it or didn't perceive it as a threat. Either way, she blinks and looks down.
"Oh, 'scuse me -- did I bump you? Sorry. Hi."
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The ridiculous fruity drink is eyed.
"Dare I ask what's in that?"
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Her nails are henna red, but that matches the patterns on her slender hands.
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And you don't get make it to the Fives without knowing when you're being watched.
Still, she takes one of her shots before fixing the girl with a steady gaze and an amused smile.
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"I am fucking fascinating, sweetheart."
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If one of the cards happens to blow from the table and land by one of the girls' feet, well, call it coincidence.
(Prison isn't exactly gender-diverse, and at times the bar can be a little distracting.)
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She holds it out to him in a silent question, the dart tucked back against her palm.
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He takes the card back with two fingers, offering her a slow nod (and an equally slow smile) in response.
(It's a Queen of Spades.)
"Thank you."
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"You're welcome."
(Not a card they have at home.)
"What are you playing?"
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This boy has a gift for the girl shooting darts but isn't sure how to go about giving it to her so is watching while the mechanical kite flies around the rafters.
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"Hey, there."
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"I made you something."
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Kite's eyes are wide and her mouth hangs open slightly.
"Oh wow."
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"Which things? This?"
A gesture with the knife.
"Or these?" She taps the blade lightly against one of the shotglasses.
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