<img style="avatar" src="http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f206/Blade_Redwind/Sybil.png" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]Sybil could be patient when she so chose to be, but leaning into the front desk of the teahouse’s café lobby was becoming tiresome. She considered texting Adon again; however, if he hadn’t replied by now then he was most certainly up to something; likely a something that didn’t involve being fully dressed. She sighed a whimsical girl sigh—the kind you saw in old movies when a woman was bored or bothered or distressed or all three—and tilted her head. Fingertips moved from her temple to her jawline and pressed while she delicately finished the rest of her water with all the grace of a woman practiced.
She didn’t want to tarry because of boredom; she also didn’t want to wander in case Artemis came through the lobby. But… she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to wander a little. If worse came to worse and he did interrupt Adon it was not as though she couldn’t find another way to distract him later.
Thus, she set her glass down on the counter, adjusted her chain-strapped bag, and walked away towards a hall. Her beaded flapper dress shimmered; little flecks of crystal swung around her legs and long the material—from her ears. She adjusted the hat on her head, in the process making the white gemmed horse sparkle in the light. Red curls were also preened to be better situated about her shoulders. The clip of her heels echoed on harder floor and were smothered of sound entirely on softer ones—carpet or rug.
She tapped her chin as she explored, bright red eyes with slips of darker garnet touching on every detail in the establishment: paintings, scones, small table set against the walls with flowers… It was a bit like a dream—a pocket of space tucked away from the modern world.
And the she stopped suddenly as she heard a voice—a rather loud one asking after someone. Her gaze moved and she turned, blinking. She caught sight of the dark hair first, then the glasses, and finally the suit. Ah… perhaps her decision to wander hadn’t been unwise at all. For once luck was working in favor of her tendency to flitter about like an easily distracted butterfly.
She glanced at her reflection in hanging mirror, once again preening, before turning as walking in his direction. She dug about in her purse, looking for her phone—or at least looking like she was looking for her phone. It wasn’t the most ideal of plans, but sometimes the most complex problems required utter simplicity. Thus, when she bumped into him, she did nothing to really save herself or her poor footing. Her heels slipped under her feet as she let out a soft noise and reached for his shoulder.
One could only hope he’d fall on top of her… or she on top of him. Maybe.
She didn’t want to tarry because of boredom; she also didn’t want to wander in case Artemis came through the lobby. But… she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to wander a little. If worse came to worse and he did interrupt Adon it was not as though she couldn’t find another way to distract him later.
Thus, she set her glass down on the counter, adjusted her chain-strapped bag, and walked away towards a hall. Her beaded flapper dress shimmered; little flecks of crystal swung around her legs and long the material—from her ears. She adjusted the hat on her head, in the process making the white gemmed horse sparkle in the light. Red curls were also preened to be better situated about her shoulders. The clip of her heels echoed on harder floor and were smothered of sound entirely on softer ones—carpet or rug.
She tapped her chin as she explored, bright red eyes with slips of darker garnet touching on every detail in the establishment: paintings, scones, small table set against the walls with flowers… It was a bit like a dream—a pocket of space tucked away from the modern world.
And the she stopped suddenly as she heard a voice—a rather loud one asking after someone. Her gaze moved and she turned, blinking. She caught sight of the dark hair first, then the glasses, and finally the suit. Ah… perhaps her decision to wander hadn’t been unwise at all. For once luck was working in favor of her tendency to flitter about like an easily distracted butterfly.
She glanced at her reflection in hanging mirror, once again preening, before turning as walking in his direction. She dug about in her purse, looking for her phone—or at least looking like she was looking for her phone. It wasn’t the most ideal of plans, but sometimes the most complex problems required utter simplicity. Thus, when she bumped into him, she did nothing to really save herself or her poor footing. Her heels slipped under her feet as she let out a soft noise and reached for his shoulder.
One could only hope he’d fall on top of her… or she on top of him. Maybe.
Sometimes I feel like a girl~... sometimes I don't~
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