Dante Sotari
Rook to Knight Four
"Promise?" She grinned, more teeth and challenge than real smile, but she bounced her eyebrows at him in an exaggerated expression before looking back up over the bar.
Eight drinks in, Dante was dull enough around the edges herself that she didn't particularly notice the slight shift in him. Or, if she did, contributed it to his own slink into the bottle. Or in this case, glass. She paused with the drink already at her lips, it taking her a second to realize he had stopped.
"Oh. Um."
Focused on the drink (and the company), she'd missed the music in the background. She frowned slightly, her eyes focusing on his lips, keying into the soft hum of the main chords, which was what led her to the music itself.
It was like the weight of a thousand bodies, sudden and abrupt. Too much. Too much sadness, too much death. Too much loss. And here they were, surrounded in it, drowning in it. This bar, at this moment, suddenly became absolutely suffocating. Why had she ever thought coming here had been a good idea? She looked around for a moment, and then-
"To getting the kark out of here," she said, raising the glass and tipping it back faster than any of the previous rounds.
She stood up, a little too fast and swayed a bit, shaking her head to clear it enough.
Free booze or no, she needed some air. And a different venue.
"Come or stay," she said, tone too carefully indifferent for actual indifference.
[member="Morgan Vance"]
Eight drinks in, Dante was dull enough around the edges herself that she didn't particularly notice the slight shift in him. Or, if she did, contributed it to his own slink into the bottle. Or in this case, glass. She paused with the drink already at her lips, it taking her a second to realize he had stopped.
"Oh. Um."
Focused on the drink (and the company), she'd missed the music in the background. She frowned slightly, her eyes focusing on his lips, keying into the soft hum of the main chords, which was what led her to the music itself.
It was like the weight of a thousand bodies, sudden and abrupt. Too much. Too much sadness, too much death. Too much loss. And here they were, surrounded in it, drowning in it. This bar, at this moment, suddenly became absolutely suffocating. Why had she ever thought coming here had been a good idea? She looked around for a moment, and then-
"To getting the kark out of here," she said, raising the glass and tipping it back faster than any of the previous rounds.
She stood up, a little too fast and swayed a bit, shaking her head to clear it enough.
Free booze or no, she needed some air. And a different venue.
"Come or stay," she said, tone too carefully indifferent for actual indifference.
[member="Morgan Vance"]