[This place is better suited to Vi despite the eternal light and brightness of the place. There's life here, and noise. The bustle of people moving back and forth, the sounds of life and living and voices and bodily functions and people. That's what she's used to. How could she be used to anything else after spending most of her childhood in a bar?
She's been in the bar for a while, but she hadn't noticed the skinny gargoyle in the corner. Not the best use of her observational skills, but she'd been more interested in getting her mind off everything that's going on than she had been in watching her surroundings, in keeping an eye out for anyone else from home who might have shown up.
When she gets the drink, she pulls the slip of paper out from under it and opens it, reads the words and then reads them again, quickly, three more times in succession before her head whips around and suddenly those dark corners bear the brunt of her scrutiny. It doesn't take her long to pick Silco out of the crowd, not when she's actively looking for that creepy glowing eye. Pushing the beer away, she orders another of what she'd already been drinking, and picks it up, pushes herself away from the bar, moving like a big cat on the prowl, and crosses the room to the table where the man is sitting.
Taking hold of the back of the chair across from him, she turns it backward and straddles it, putting the beer down heavily on the tabletop.]
Making a statement?
[The urge to just punch him in the face is strong, very strong, but she doesn't. She holds herself back for the moment, though her hands are shaking with the instinctive curl of her fingers into fists.]
no subject
She's been in the bar for a while, but she hadn't noticed the skinny gargoyle in the corner. Not the best use of her observational skills, but she'd been more interested in getting her mind off everything that's going on than she had been in watching her surroundings, in keeping an eye out for anyone else from home who might have shown up.
When she gets the drink, she pulls the slip of paper out from under it and opens it, reads the words and then reads them again, quickly, three more times in succession before her head whips around and suddenly those dark corners bear the brunt of her scrutiny. It doesn't take her long to pick Silco out of the crowd, not when she's actively looking for that creepy glowing eye. Pushing the beer away, she orders another of what she'd already been drinking, and picks it up, pushes herself away from the bar, moving like a big cat on the prowl, and crosses the room to the table where the man is sitting.
Taking hold of the back of the chair across from him, she turns it backward and straddles it, putting the beer down heavily on the tabletop.]
Making a statement?
[The urge to just punch him in the face is strong, very strong, but she doesn't. She holds herself back for the moment, though her hands are shaking with the instinctive curl of her fingers into fists.]