*emilia glances around, curiously and steps inside the room, holding a drawing pad, a pencil and a cup of tea. she sits down, crossing her legs and fixing her dress as she rests the drawing pad on her lap, settling the mug beside her on a table*
/fascinated by the events unfolding before her, she shifts to a more comfortable position by tucking her crossed legs on the couch and her elbow resting on the armrest with her cheek resting lightly on her open palm/
/miffed, she chews on her lower couplet, artificial cherry only souring her mood further. She relents, however, cutting their proximity with uncanny ease. Close, maybe too close. So close, the doll was sure the former could hear the tinkling of silver charms adorning her likewise necklace.
Can you hear me now? Or shall I sit on your lap?
(a brow raises in curiosity as he listens closer to the girl's softening voice, the edge of his lips soon curling with a foxy playfulness as the urge to tease quickly washed over him)
what was that, ma chérie? i don't think i quite heard you clearly enough. i'm not a little mousling who can hear through the floorboards after all. could you speak up and say that again?
it's because-... because...
/words dissipated off her tongue upon seeing the lad's fingers weave through his golden tresses, momentarily distracted by the way they glinted in the light. a weak thing for shiny things, lilith was. forcing herself to tear the ever-lingering gaze away, she scales the room in pursuit of the thrown handbag, whispering a nearly inaudible apology for his ears only; embarrassment staining her delicate visage all the more.
ah, i see. apologies all around for the lovely mademoiselle in red yet a nasty attitude for me? what a world we live in nowadays. i suppose we can kiss decorum goodbye, hm?
(heaves an obnoxious scoff in disbelief as he runs a hand through his feathery blonde curls, pulling them back into a more clean sharp look before flipping to the proper page of his book again, elegantly yet aggressively crossing on leg over the other with sass)
/having living so many centuries, it was no surprise for Nicha to meet rowdy bunch of kids but that simply doesn't mean she'd grow use to it. Looking at the other two women, which she could easily tell that they both are human; to the blonde man, who she was sure she had met him before but maybe doesn't hold any significan impact on her thus why she doesn't remember him. Heaving a sigh, she dismissed the apology/
No need to apologies. At least not to me.
/thinking it will be a quiet day, her eyes widens in surprise at the stillness suddenly swallowed up by chaos in no time/ oh dang… /her focus shifts from the supposedly-drunk woman to the woman in red(although respectfully looking) to the slick yet flustered blonde-haired man/
/appalled by the male’s outcry, and even more astonished by his “Sick Victorian child from the 1700s” dialect, Lilith lifts her head from the floor with a gasp, frantically looking about the room until her eyes landed on a particular blonde. A blonde that had been lovingly slapped in the face with 100% authentic lambskin.
I- I didn’t mean to- I…
/panic settles in her veins as she scrambles off the floor, not being able to come up with a plausible excuse; so she settles for the next best thing.
How dare you raise your voice at me? It’s like you /want/ to cause a scene. Lover of attention, much?
(comfortably leaning back against the velvet chaise with a book in hand, he was enjoying a peaceful moment of silence... until the scent of fresh blood and sugar assaulted his nostrils, scrunching his nose up right before a woman's chanel bag suddenly smacked upon his face like a cannon ball)
fils de pute! watch where you toss that thing! have you no consideration?!
Somnolence coats this damsel’s lithe stature, thinly veiling her waning focus with a heady fog. “I can’t smell anything…” but pumpkin spice and peppermint. Lilith was sure she smelled like a Christmas cookie after spending countless hours indulging Fall fanatics. Jarred with the day, the darling gives up before she even reaches the lounge’s couch, Chanel tossed in some wayward direction. The floor would do.
/with a small sigh, she escaped the warm embrace of her bakery and leaving it in the care of her trusty fellow co-worker. she has been hustling ever since it opened not too long ago and she is hoping that word of her bakery will get around and their customer pool growing day by day. all she needs is a good break from kneading the doughs/ phew- what a day.
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