[/img]"http://i48.photobucket.com/albums/f206/Blade_Redwind/Sybil.png" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;" style="avatar]Bright red orbs with a mix of rust focused on a slip of paper held between slender digits; painted nails were done up in a simple French manicure, tipped in white and softly washed in pale pink. Teeth bit a lower red lip glossed in a color that vibrantly matched her eyes; slices of the same hue ebbed and flowed in numerous shades in the waving tresses of her hair. It toppled over her shoulders and stopped at an angular point in the middle of her back.
It couldn’t be that difficult to find… could it?
A gentle sigh left her and she looked up, stopping to glance about. The clip of her rhinestone gemmed and strappy heels halted. One leg lifted and she scratched the back of a bare calf with the top of her foot idly, balancing easily. A finger came up and she bit the nail gently as she looked down at the directions again.
Had Adon give her the wrong address? Was she reading it wrong?
A tiny huff escaped her and she looked up once more, squinting at a sign she hadn’t seen before along the concrete path. And then she just moved closer to it, realizing it was map. Pearlesque beaded bits dangled with the motion, dancing to and fro from her ears and the trim of her 20s style flapper dress. More of them, not entirely alike, dangled off the whole of it in places where the white lace and a dull satin couldn’t be seen. The short-sleeved ivory faux fur short coat was pulled tighter, the chain-strapped clutch held in one hand at the same time. Perhaps she looked a little out of place, especially with the bob of a hat adorned with a few plumy white feathers and gemmed with a single piece of jewelry made to look like a horse.
Though, if Sybil cared about the curious stares she was receiving from passersbys, she didn’t appear to.
‘YOU ARE HERE’ blared loudly in white script against a brown background. Long lashes kissed her cheeks as she analyzed the directions to the tea house. Alright then, just down the next path. She smiled and continued on, turning right when she needed to onto a tree-lined boardwalk..
She knew she wasn’t wearing enough, not when she passed a few couples bundled up in hoodies and scarves. The cold didn’t bother Sybil; no, the lack of moisture in the air did—the frosted bite of non-humidity. She’d really have to get a glass of water when she got there; the caffeine in the tea would just dehydrate her.
Gardens poured out before her as she moved onward, and, brick walls covered in lattice met her gaze. She followed it up and up, touching on every detail blended with inspiration from Greece and Britain.
It was lovely, perhaps the perfect setting to prove Adon wrong. This and myriad of curious images involving the process of said ‘proving’ danced around in her mind with a dainty grin that made her eyes close cutely as she partially bounced up the stairs. In she went, not looking back for a moment as she came into the lobby.
The clutch was grasped between her hands behind her back as she looked about, rocking and peering with wide eyes—turning around in slow circle.
Should she text him? Adon? Well, she could at least let him know she was here, busy or not as he might have mentioned he would be with his sister. Hmmm… it would be the polite thing to do.
Her tongue stuck put and she straightened and popped open her clutch of a bag; the smart phone was pulled out and she swiped a thumb over it to unlock the usual code.
Messages… and there. A simple, ‘Just got here, sweets,’ was punched in a sent off before dropping it back in her bag.
Well… maybe she could bother someone for a cup of water in the meantime…?
It couldn’t be that difficult to find… could it?
A gentle sigh left her and she looked up, stopping to glance about. The clip of her rhinestone gemmed and strappy heels halted. One leg lifted and she scratched the back of a bare calf with the top of her foot idly, balancing easily. A finger came up and she bit the nail gently as she looked down at the directions again.
Had Adon give her the wrong address? Was she reading it wrong?
A tiny huff escaped her and she looked up once more, squinting at a sign she hadn’t seen before along the concrete path. And then she just moved closer to it, realizing it was map. Pearlesque beaded bits dangled with the motion, dancing to and fro from her ears and the trim of her 20s style flapper dress. More of them, not entirely alike, dangled off the whole of it in places where the white lace and a dull satin couldn’t be seen. The short-sleeved ivory faux fur short coat was pulled tighter, the chain-strapped clutch held in one hand at the same time. Perhaps she looked a little out of place, especially with the bob of a hat adorned with a few plumy white feathers and gemmed with a single piece of jewelry made to look like a horse.
Though, if Sybil cared about the curious stares she was receiving from passersbys, she didn’t appear to.
‘YOU ARE HERE’ blared loudly in white script against a brown background. Long lashes kissed her cheeks as she analyzed the directions to the tea house. Alright then, just down the next path. She smiled and continued on, turning right when she needed to onto a tree-lined boardwalk..
She knew she wasn’t wearing enough, not when she passed a few couples bundled up in hoodies and scarves. The cold didn’t bother Sybil; no, the lack of moisture in the air did—the frosted bite of non-humidity. She’d really have to get a glass of water when she got there; the caffeine in the tea would just dehydrate her.
Gardens poured out before her as she moved onward, and, brick walls covered in lattice met her gaze. She followed it up and up, touching on every detail blended with inspiration from Greece and Britain.
It was lovely, perhaps the perfect setting to prove Adon wrong. This and myriad of curious images involving the process of said ‘proving’ danced around in her mind with a dainty grin that made her eyes close cutely as she partially bounced up the stairs. In she went, not looking back for a moment as she came into the lobby.
The clutch was grasped between her hands behind her back as she looked about, rocking and peering with wide eyes—turning around in slow circle.
Should she text him? Adon? Well, she could at least let him know she was here, busy or not as he might have mentioned he would be with his sister. Hmmm… it would be the polite thing to do.
Her tongue stuck put and she straightened and popped open her clutch of a bag; the smart phone was pulled out and she swiped a thumb over it to unlock the usual code.
Messages… and there. A simple, ‘Just got here, sweets,’ was punched in a sent off before dropping it back in her bag.
Well… maybe she could bother someone for a cup of water in the meantime…?
Sometimes I feel like a girl~... sometimes I don't~
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