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Post by Deleted on Apr 25, 2014 3:42:45 GMT
IT'S FINGERS ON YOUR THROAT,
IT'S PAIN THAT ALL THINGS KNOW. Lacey lights her fifth cigarette. That shit will kill you, but only if nothing else does first. And there's a lot swirling around inside her that could shoot the first bullet. If you struck her, she'd light up like a Molotov. Who knows. She coughs. Lacey stands at the establishment as a figurehead, she is the mermaid at the bow of the ship keeping everyone calm. Waves crest against her and she doesn't blink. In the eyes of the law she is low-level, but if you beg she can keep your hands from shaking. DANNY MA |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 28, 2014 11:42:59 GMT
His sweater is hanging off a shoulder, slipped down his arm and he doesn't bother to hitch it up as he weaves through the crowd. Or drifts, more like. He's too at ease to shove anyone aside, but he's too strung out not to bump a few shoulders.
It's hot, all of a sudden, and Danny slips his sweater off, to the ground, and he doesn't think of picking it up. Later he looks over his shoulder but can't quite recall what it was he wanted, and when he turns back he's stumbling into another stranger.
"Sorry," He reaches out with a smile and a hand that's meant to be steadying. Meant to be friendly - as he always is.
@lacey
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Post by Deleted on May 12, 2014 22:46:50 GMT
She's suspicious as soon as she sees his sweater hit the floor. The suspicion is like sweat, it comes without warning, it's her body's reaction. A drop of it beads on her brow, and she wipes it away. He falls against her and in the minor scuffle she burns his newly-exposed forearm with the end of her cigarette. "Shit," she mutters, and quickly wipes the ash off his skin (taut, tan). "Now I'm the sorry one," she says, the corner of her lip twitching up. Lacey isn't friendly by any means, but she's hardly anti-social. Not in this business, not with this sort of candor (the kind that screams for quiet attention). DANNY MA |
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Post by Deleted on Jun 12, 2014 6:13:47 GMT
It isn't a hot pain, exactly. It's sharp, but it doesn't register as pain in the first few seconds, her skin is cool against his and when she draws her hand away it's already started to redden.
He hisses, with a grimace - it looks out of place, and it curls into a smile, Danny looks up at her.
"It's fine." It should occur to him she looks like the sort of girl to put a cigarette out in your eye if you crossed her, but instead all that occurs to him is that it was an accident, that shit happens.
"I should have watched where I was going." Earnest, fingers gently prodding at the burn but his eyes are on her. "That's one way to learn a lesson." He says, the pain pricking at his forearm now. Her eyes are sharp too, Danny bets she'd have a smile like diamonds. Danny stands there and absently curls his arm against himself, like he'd put out the burn.
@lacey
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Post by Deleted on Jun 22, 2014 3:52:10 GMT
FRESH MEAT, the words blow up in her eyes like flashing neon. An enticing offer driven by the roadside, it glows red and harsh, licks at her ferociously. Some things come as easy as that. Lacey brushes the imagery away. It's just strange to see someone react this way. She wants a spit, hurt pride more than hurt skin. His eyes are soft and he holds himself that way and even though he's brushing off any blame, Lacey feels even more guilty. "That's one way of looking at it," she broods, voice sounding a little preoccupied and empty. She keeps staring at him, past his covering arm to where the burn is. "The worst thing about a burn is that it just has to run it's course. Sweat it out, you'll be fine." She smiles as earnestly as she can. Offering comfort isn't in her nature, but fairness is (when she decides it to be, anyway). DANNY MA |
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