04-20-2014, 12:15 PM
Three new faces, none of them the one she was waiting for, but not uninteresting either. A Privilege scuttling along the underside of the city was nothing new or surprising. Oriena had once made it her business to understand the people surrounding the man she had loved, and she didn't forget faces; this one, in particular, had a history writ in blood. Such a childhood had to profoundly fuck someone up, no matter how carefully polished the exterior beloved Privilege Takeo Onoda presented to the united peoples of the CCD. The only question was how thin the line between that polished exterior, and the darkness Tokyo had cut into its son?
Briefly she wondered if his dark-haired companion knew to whom she spoke, but didn't care to find out. Of the three, it was the woman with the short hair and skull shirt that earned her open attention. While one of her companions took his shot, Ori leaned against her pool cue and glanced her over, mischevious smile toying the edges of her lips. Of course the only thing that really mattered she'd comprehended in the first few seconds, but she was curious to see if she'd be recognised in turn. Not to mention bask for a second in the curious fortune.
Ori didn't spare a look at the Privilege on her way over. Her knuckles rapped against the bar, and she held up four fingers to Gus's resultant glare. "Пиво без водки - деньги на ветер,"
she said to the woman. Of course, that's exactly why Oriena was drinking beer; she wasn't looking to get wasted, and beer was about as potent as water. "We have a saying here: drinking beer without vodka is a waste of money. If you insist on the beer, better stick to the bottles."
Because who knew how long that beer had been sitting in the barrel?
Gus dumped her order with little more than a tolerant grunt, and Ori scooped up two beers by the neck, then chinked the third against the last left on the bar. Her smile was almost friendly, for Ori anyway, but there was a sharpness in her eyes. Her indignant vows to a wreathe-strewn grave culminated in two twists of power in the space between her and the other woman, invisible to all but the most unique of eyes. Every promise she had ever made Cara that she would remain hidden shattered, but she felt no guilt. She was tired of hiding.
The knowing smirk deepened. "Oriena."
It was an open invitation, though one she didn't wait for an answer to before returning to her pool game.
Briefly she wondered if his dark-haired companion knew to whom she spoke, but didn't care to find out. Of the three, it was the woman with the short hair and skull shirt that earned her open attention. While one of her companions took his shot, Ori leaned against her pool cue and glanced her over, mischevious smile toying the edges of her lips. Of course the only thing that really mattered she'd comprehended in the first few seconds, but she was curious to see if she'd be recognised in turn. Not to mention bask for a second in the curious fortune.
Ori didn't spare a look at the Privilege on her way over. Her knuckles rapped against the bar, and she held up four fingers to Gus's resultant glare. "Пиво без водки - деньги на ветер,"
she said to the woman. Of course, that's exactly why Oriena was drinking beer; she wasn't looking to get wasted, and beer was about as potent as water. "We have a saying here: drinking beer without vodka is a waste of money. If you insist on the beer, better stick to the bottles."
Because who knew how long that beer had been sitting in the barrel?
Gus dumped her order with little more than a tolerant grunt, and Ori scooped up two beers by the neck, then chinked the third against the last left on the bar. Her smile was almost friendly, for Ori anyway, but there was a sharpness in her eyes. Her indignant vows to a wreathe-strewn grave culminated in two twists of power in the space between her and the other woman, invisible to all but the most unique of eyes. Every promise she had ever made Cara that she would remain hidden shattered, but she felt no guilt. She was tired of hiding.
The knowing smirk deepened. "Oriena."
It was an open invitation, though one she didn't wait for an answer to before returning to her pool game.