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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    Before I went under || Eros & Any
    #11

    Eros

    Just as he secures the last of the pastries inside the glass case, he grabs the dirtied platter and tongs and retreats to the back once again.  The saloon door swings behind him as he enters the kitchen and places the items beside the sink.  He'd take care of them before the end of his shift which seemed to be quickly approaching.  

    Walking back towards the door that had just stopped swinging, he pushes it aside to see the upscale woman handing Della a business card.  The shock upon his co-workers face is as clear as night and day but he maintains his composure.  Slipping behind Della to rearrange some menus nonchalantly.  A faint smile is brought to his thin lips as he fumbles with the laminated papers.  

    Out of his peripheral vision he sees the woman go take a place at a booth and begin to page through fancy magazines.  Della turns towards him and he looks up to catch the form of the words on her lips.  He indulges in her excitement as his expression changes to surprise and he mouths "Oh My God." His golden eyes fall again to her lips but this time he does not find words there.  She had the most perfect lips.  Not too thin, nor too large.  Pleasantly plump he would say.  He quickly realizes his thoughts and his eyes flash back to the menus in his hands.  A slight blush coming to his ivory cheeks.

    Looking up to the clock he takes note that it is 9:30.  Only two more hours and he'd be headed home.  He turns to walk towards Della, menus in arm.  Placing his hand on her shaking one, he gives her a squeeze before whispering to her, "We should celebrate after closing." He offers a smile before walking towards to seating area and placing the menus in their holders on each table.  Saturdays were pretty quiet but Sunday was their busiest day with all the after service patrons.

    Barely noticing the man had risen from his seat and was approaching the woman, he kept tending to tables.  An occasional glance Della's way revealed her struggling attempt to contain her excitement.  Bringing a light laugh to leave his lips with a gentle shake to his head as he looked back down at his work.  With a towel hung over his shoulder he began to think of how such a deary day had brightened so quickly with such odd interactions with strangers...

    Unconditional Love




    @[Sabra] @[Lavendel] @[Arithmetic]
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    #12
    Sabrina is a bit amused at the girl and her co-worker's quiet gushing. She only hopes the girl will take up the challenge and bloom. 

    Her idle musing is distracted by the sudden appearance of a pair of face-level trousers. The trousers are clothing the rather tall figure of the man who'd been in front of her at the counter. Leaning back in her seat, she raises one perfectly threaded brow haughtily at his interruption. It drops again in consternation as his accent registers. Immediately, memories of her childhood surface. 

    Born in her father's native UAE, she had been shipped off to a London boarding school soon after her mother OD'd when she was nine. That had been her maternal grandmother's doing, ostensibly in the hopes that Sabrina would become a better person than her mother had been. By her grandmother's estimating, it had been successful. By her father's, it had given her an unacceptable sense of freedom. Had he his way, she would have been married to a business partner when she was 18, and done nothing more exciting than host charity dinners for the rest of her life. But she had finished school, moved to the U.S, and left her father and his family behind. 

    London, though. She did miss it, at times. And... well, there was nothing to say that she hadn't encountered this man before, perhaps when they were children. She worked hard at her neutral American accent, and most days it was flawless. She would keep it that way, for now. 

    "Perhaps. Where do you think you know me from?" She asked, taking a sip of her drink. She checked the slim rose gold watch on her wrist briefly, then gestured to the seat across from her. "If you don't have anywhere to be, we could puzzle this out?" She still had an hour or so. It had been such a long time since she talked to someone about something non critical. A little mystery would be fun. 


    @[Eros] @[Lavendel] @[Arithmetic] I think I just need to write a backstory book for her, sorry guys :|
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    #13
    She cant help but smile as Eros whispers the offer in her ear. It wasn't a date, yet it felt like it could be. The girl nods her head replying with a soft 'I'd love that.' before returning to her duties around the shop. Out of the corner of her pale eyes, she can see the two finely dressed strangers come together in quiet conversation across the way from her place at the counter.

    As she watched them her hands worked to clean the counters before her shift ended. Though her muscles were set on the work her mind wandered to what she would tell her mother. If tomorrow went well she might not return to their lovely Acadian in Autumn Parks for a long time. For a moment she thought her mother might be thrilled, but deep down she knew the woman would be crushed. For so long it had just been Fae and Della on their own facing the world one step at a time... Her mother hadn't lived alone since the 80's before she had met Della's father in '87 and his death had crushed her. Would Della leave to follow her dreams cause the same heartache? If it did she might have to reconsider Sabrina's offer... Fae was worth more to the girl than any amount of money someone threw at her. 

    She shook her head, moving away from the now dull spot on the once newly waxed counters.
    "Shit..."
    She mumbled running her thumb across it with a defeated sigh. Just moments ago she had been so excited about the coming day! Now she was terrified to face her own mother.
    [Image: lav_by_heyyou80-dc01t5i.png]
    L a v e n d e l
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    #14

    He was not blind to the look of slight irritation at his interruption. The oddly familiar woman clearly had walls built up around her. Tall walls. At her gesturing he took the seat across from her, his eyes shifting towards his abandoned spot in a much more private corner of the shop. Like her he preferred his solitude, only stepping outside of his bubble when the need became to great to ignore.
     
    Across from his, hesitation rang clearly in the thickness of her voice. There was a past dancing behind her eyes as she regarded him with stiff formality. Though she sounded American, there was a hint of something else behind the thinly veiled façade. Unable to confirm his suspicions, he rested his back against the plush armchair he’d claimed, and, with folded hands, he studied her face.
     
    Unforgettable. Her features, her eyes, the softness of her hair. Though her demeanor was stiff, she had every right to me hesitant. He was a stranger to her and, if they shared any similarities, he had a feeling that they both preferred to remain unbothered.
     
    There was something in her eyes, however. A glow that took him back to his childhood. Joke that it was. As a boy he’d been abandoned at a fairly popular boarding school by his grandparents. His mother very clearly had no interest in raising him and his own father had been an anonymous figure in his life – not a very common topic of conversation. When his mother had decided that she’d had enough of the mothering bit she’d left him to the care of her stiff, formal parents who wasted no time in pawning him off, yet again. At least they had the curtesy to pretend they were doing it for his benefit. Though, even as a young boy, he’d known that their motivation was just as selfish as their daughter’s.  
     
    During his stay at the boarding school there had been a girl to arrive only a year after him. This strangers eyes were hauntingly similar.
     
    But that was impossible. This woman was an American, by all tells, and this all happened back in England.
     
    Abruptly he stood, feeling foolish. ”I beg your pardon,” he offered apologetically. ”I must be mistaken.” He smoothed down his coat and cleared his throat. ”I apologize, you simply reminded me of an old school companion. I simply couldn’t resist my own foolish wonderings.”

    Arithmetic
    I Don't Make Love


    @[Sabra] I hope you don't mind. I took some liberties.
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    #15

    Eros

    With a few more duties attended to he begins to check off his mental list of 'to dos'.  Tables cleaned, placements set, menus distributed, burners tended, pastries arranged... Ah! Garbages. 

    From his slight pause in thought, he walks into the back and begins gathering the bags.  Tying the tops tight and bringing them to the back door.  One by one they are gathered and when all are retrieved, he opens the back door to place them in the dumpster.  Upon opening the lid and disposing of the trash, he rushes back in.  Redistributing fresh bags to each receptical.  With a satisfied sigh, he smiles and removes his waiters apron.  Hanging it onto his proclaimed hook.  He bids bids farewell to the cook and then walks towards the register.  Logging his time with a quick click of buttons.

    Eyes turn to find Della half in lala land rubbing the polish off the table top. He places his hand on her shoulder, "I'm headed out... I think there is a party going on tonight by the lake, if you wanna go... Call me, ok?!" He more demands than asks as he's rounding the front counter.  A final wave to her as he heads out the door.  The familiar ding left in his wake...

    Unconditional Love



    @[Lavendel] Maybe they can start another thread to celebrate Wink  lol
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