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Post by Deleted on Aug 29, 2013 1:44:41 GMT
In hindsight walking down a shady quarter in the dead of the night wasn’t the brightest idea, but for someone like Dani that situation wasn’t as abnormal as for other people. She wasn’t the most normal of people out there, to but it simply. Her job practically screamed shady in on itself without needing any definition. And that as one of the many reasons she didn’t even hesitate to pursue such a career, even now looking back, she couldn’t find anything wrong with her choice of work. Or that was just her way of thinking that sometimes clouded her judgment and inevitably tossed her in the middle of some kind of a racket. And would think one would learn their lessons. Not Dani, obviously.
She kept the ray of thoughts streaming down her mind, while burying her hand inside one of her jacket’s pockets in search of the little square neatly and securely stashed inside. Her lips turned into a small satisfied smirk as her fingers curled around the pack of cigarettes, bringing it out and opening it with a fast motion of her slender fingers. Pushing the bottom of the pack, she viciously bit the end of one of the few cigars still left inside that popped out. After the pack then was tugged back inside a pocket again, the thought of a lighter crossed her mind briefly. Patting the waist of her jeans and jacket in search of the said lighter didn’t reveal anything but a series of disgruntled noises from the bounty hunter.
“Tsk.” was the verdict. No lighter. No smoke. The smirk faded into a frustrated expression, her brows furrowing as the time passed, the cold starting to sweep between her bones as well as anger. But she was too stubborn when it comes to her need of smoking, so there was no way she would give up a smoke for anything in the world. Looking around herself, hardly seeing anything at all besides a few lights here and there and the few stars lighting up the sky. Almost giving up on her crusade, Dani noticed a silhouette not too far ahead from her. With determinate steps, she marched her way to the person that hopefully had a lighter to spare. “Hey,” she barked at the silhouette, blind to how that might just spoke the person away from her. “Any chance you have a lighter?” she asked in a much more restrained tone, but loud enough to be sure the individual in front of her would hear exactly what she said. Unless they were deaf or mentally retarded which would explain the midnight walk more or less.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 29, 2013 13:10:50 GMT
{ D A N I Q U I N N } The boy had been fed up with his nightly job lately, what with the rude remarks from utterly rude clients wasting his nights when he could be with someone infinitely more pleasant. After all, he didn't need someone tossing him out of the place with that condescending look that had and still is quite popular with individuals who don't quite approve of the prostitution business, yet still buy the bodies of young men or women that litter the streets in the red-light district. Unfortunately, rude clients were usually the richer ones, and money was money. Aimé wasn't stupid enough to turn away good business.
His daily wandering today consisted of the Tenements of Nova. It was a place where he did not often visits, for everyone here was a bit too poor to pay for his services and the place too old for his daytime piano performances. It was, however, a good place for a walk when he didn't want to be bothered, and so here he was, drifting along the streets with a pocket full of lollipops he'd bought at a convenience store with the portion of money he had earned earlier that night. Aimé sighs, a cool night air ruffling his hair, the wind caressing his face with a soft feather touch. It was quiet. The air was cool. And despite the annoyance he had been feeling earlier, the boy lets out a smile.
And then in the midst of his thoughts, he hears a loud hey, but continues walking. The voice. Feminine, rather loud. Was she speaking to him? Probably not. In this area with one police patrol too many, it was quite rare for a stranger to call out to another stranger. Yet the pounding footsteps neared and then a person inquiring for a lighter calls out in a much softer voice than the one used before.
Nevermind. She was definitely talking to him. He pauses in his tracks and turns around, finding a women with obvious frustration etched into her face.
"And if I did?" he replies with a hint of amusement in his voice, though of course he didn't. Some of his clients smoked, certainly, but the brunet had never been one for the smell and taste of cigarettes.
@hellon made by CAPTAIN of GANGNAM STYLE |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 29, 2013 19:02:43 GMT
We got you selling rag and bone , Halfway homes, & Catacombs >> @hellon, @aime It was one of those nights where Zoey needed a breathe of fresh air - get the hell out of that tiny little apartment. Maybe it was the young, pampered girl inside of her but sometimes she was resentful they stayed in such a place.
Although, she'd been the one to insist on it.
She only caught a snippet of the conversation. Normally, she really should walk by. The red-head had better things to do - or at least she told herself so. There was nothing better to do then to keep walking around in darkness and brooding over the could-have-been's and what-if's, etc. She walked over, hand on her hip. "Where are your manners," maybe constantly worrying over Paris was turning her into a bossy, worry-wort.
Oh well.
Zoe pushed her hair over her shoulder (she'd really just rolled out of bed, didn't even brush the tangles) and fished in her pocket jacket. Under that zipped, heavy leather jacket was a loose-fitting tank, beneath it were a pair of very worn, short denim jeans and lower still just plain, black Doc's. Zoe was all about the fine line of style and substance. She brought out a Zippo that was heavy in her palm. There were never enough encounters where she'd have a thousand bics, but you never knew when you had to light something. Or blow it up.
Demolitions was still on her mind every now and then. The younger days of graffitti and molotov's. She handed it to the blonde. |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 31, 2013 1:03:38 GMT
Closing in on her pray, Dani thought after a few seconds of not getting any response whatsoever from the person, they would just ignore her. And for other people that would be a message for them to fuck-off, but for Dani that was just a challenge. Then again nobody would go around yelling in the middle of the night, in a place fully loaded with cops, despise it's decaying state. A couple of crackheads staring at her wasn't a problem, but a cop, definitely a problem. She should have thought about that aspect before going around, barking at complete strangers and probably proceeding to get herself into another pile of troubles. Well, sounds like Wednesday nights to Dani.
Finally, the individual before her decided to turn back and give her their attention. Thank god, otherwise in her crazy craving for a smoke, she would've most likely tarnished anyone standing in her way of getting the thing she wanted. Dani didn't spend much thought on their looks, but she did notice a few essential things. Like the fact that the stranger wasn't even of legal age yet and... yeah, just that. For her, the kid didn't look special at all, at least his looks didn't spark anything. Anything hardly did those day, to be honest.
The answer she got wasn't that much of an answer at all. Furrowing her brows, she aggressively bite on the filter of the cigarette moving it around so she could speak around it. Apparently, Dani had to teach some little prick how to properly answer a question. "If you did, wouldn't it be nice to share it? Didn't your mother teach you anything?" Her voice was plain and not at all inquisitive seeing as the questions were rhetorical.
The red-headed that just strolled her way into the conversation - if it could be called that at all - and seemed to have overheard their said conversation, pointed a shiny little lighter at her. The relief that washed over her seeing the bic was obvious in the way her tensed shoulders relaxed all of a sudden. Taking the lighter from the girl, she lit her cigar and breathed in the deliciously toxic smoke filling her lungs up with it before releasing it into the air, watching it as it vanished before her eyes as well as her nerves.
She pointed the lighter back at it's rightful owner, nodding her head at her benefactor as a way to say thanks. Now that her nerves weren't as tensed up as before, she could spare a few seconds to look at the new arrived. Zipped heavy jacket, worn out denim jeans and black boots, topped with the mash of firey tangles on top of her head. "Nice outfit." her voice didn't have any ounce of sarcasm while she threw that compliment at the girl. Strange.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 1, 2013 13:01:44 GMT
{ @hellon & @zoey } The woman was crazy. No doubt about it. Anyone who ever spewed anything about "sharing" was crazy. Because if sharing was a natural human instinct, then why were there so many poor people in the world? But instead of saying that, he opted for a "No, I guess my mother never taught me much at all." Of course she didn't. He couldn't even remember what she looked like. The person whom was almost a mother to him was rather questionable in nature and perhaps not the best person to look up to either.
Aimé looks upon the transaction of the Zippo between girl one and girl two, and sighs. "I thought people would normally discourage smoking, and not actually, y'know, encourage it." His hand rummages through his pockets, and he pulls out a lollipop -- soda flavoured, this time -- undos the wrapper and pops it in his mouth. He glances at the two women: both older, no doubt whatsoever, and both too pretty to be walking around at this ungodly hour of the night.
When the blonde blows out a puff of smoke, Aimé wrinkles his nose. Nope. Still didn't like the smell of smoke. Probably will never get around to liking it. Tolerating perhaps, but that was it. A wind blows, bringing a cold air and dispersing the smell of smoke, and the brunet shivers. A jacket -- he'll have to ask for one of those. Or buy one the next morning. He eyes both women who had a jacket, and mildly wonders what they did for a living. All the other good-doers were already tucked into bed, so it was quite obvious that they weren't regular townspeople. But what they did for a living, Aimé could only imagine. made by CAPTAIN of GANGNAM STYLE |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 1, 2013 22:47:24 GMT
We got you selling rag and bone , Halfway homes, & Catacombs >> @hellon, @aime Zoe was not the type of person to brush off superficial compliments - the ones about her attitude or drive, those she rebuffed. Something as simple as a style compliment was enough to give her ego a temporary boost, and someone looking closely might say she started to hold herself a little differently.
Towards the boy, Zoe put a hand on her hip. She watched him smacking at the lollipop, obviously not someone with many years under their belt. It made Zoey feel old, and some of the bitterness seeped into her words. "I think smoking is a lesser evil," and true, people might not try to encourage it, but thinking of smoking as a sin was laughable in her mind. It was like calling a grain of sand a boulder. |
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