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Post by LYRA THORNE on Jan 22, 2016 3:08:56 GMT -5
tonight I'll be the libertine  She's supposed to be mixing and mashing lyrics to a new song for some young god, due to arrive in less than two hours. Usually, all the employees are forced to sing something similar to a traditional birthday song, albeit reworded to suit the occasion, but this deity's familiars had been particularly irritating in their devotion. Supposedly, their master deserves a song that isn't some half-baked rendition. "Goddamnit!" Lyra frantically waves her hand, still feeling the lick of the flames on her fingers from a failed attempt at lighting her cigarette. Now, both the lighter and the slightly singed roll lay haphazardly at her feet, having been dropped in her haste to fan the burning sensation away. Maybe it's a sign from God — one of them, at least — to quit indulging in the unholy usage of tobacco products and focus on the task at hand. Still, she can't help but cast a regretful look down at the dirty cigarette. What a waste, she thinks. The back of Cafe Festival is a graveyard of moldy desserts and empty coffee cups, dark and dank in a way that is hard to reconcile with the establishment's light and airy interior. A notepad with messy scrawling filling the first page and a pencil are settled prettily on top an empty crate, completely forgotten until now. "Where did I leave off..." Lyra murmurs, flipping through the pages until finally stopping on a relatively vacant sheet, sans one word. "Merry," she reads, voice bland and void of enthusiasm. "Merry, merry... something-day. Merry Friday — no — Merry God of Pain and Suffering Day, maybe. Very, Merry God Day to you? No, not that either..."@anyone |
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Post by MELLOW on Jan 23, 2016 20:12:16 GMT -5
[googlefont="Roboto"] want you to want me again It was a nice day outside, so why not go for a walk? So that's what she did, and didn't really have a destination in mind, but she did walk past a cafe, and heard somebody yell the words, "Goddamnit!", and was immediately interested in this cafe. The people here must be interesting.
She followed the noise, and the smell of smoke and ended up finding a lady, who looks like she's been having trouble. She sat at a table close to her, listening to every word she had said. When she had mentioned a so called God of Pain, she had turned around and looked this woman in the eyes.
"Whatcha' doin?"
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Post by LYRA THORNE on Jan 24, 2016 3:22:31 GMT -5
tonight I'll be the libertine The unwanted company of a stranger doesn't come as much of a surprise to Lyra. Many of the residents on this end of the island have issues minding their own business — herself included. However, when she turns her face towards the direction of the inquiry, she finds a face that isn't even slightly familiar. Huh. Without so much as a blink, she returns her attention to the slowly filling notepad, continuing to scrawl seemingly arbitrarily chosen words. "Bending to the will of a god," she answers as hollowly as the trunk of a dead tree. "More accurately, the will of a god's lackeys. Loyal things, they are. Annoyingly anal too. Who'd have thought?" |
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Post by MELLOW on Jan 24, 2016 17:32:09 GMT -5
[googlefont="Roboto"] want you to want me again From what she had told her, and by looking at what she was currently doing, she gathered that she was writing a song of some sort.
"Honestly, I wouldn't know what a lackey acts like, cause i haven't got one yet, though I'm hoping I will soon. Oh, by the way, the name's Mellow, the Goddess of Lust. Sooo, who's this lackey your doing this for? Your boyfriend perhaps?"
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Post by LYRA THORNE on Jan 24, 2016 18:15:44 GMT -5
tonight I'll be the libertine The tip of her pencil breaks at the exact moment the other woman poses the question, which Lyra ignores entirely to pull out a Swiss Army Knife. When the only actual sharpener within a five-mile radius is inside the cafe, by the cash register, which is past the employee lounge, which is past her idling manager, who will undoubtedly be seeking to check up on her progress, there are certain lengths one must go to avoid unfavorable situations. "I didn't ask for your name," she says, carefully shaving a tiny ribbon of wood from the broken pencil tip. "But since you seem to be all about telling me information I don't need to know and asking me questions that are frankly none of your business, answer me this. Why are you here?" |
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Post by MELLOW on Jan 24, 2016 18:44:56 GMT -5
[googlefont="Roboto"] want you to want me again This girl is very rude. That's somehow interesting to her, and actually wan make her talk to this girl more, see her get to her limit.
"Me? I'm here to meet you, of course. Just kidding. I decided to go for a walk today, and ended up here. Your beautiful voice directed me to this specific Cafe."
She looks over the table at the girl, with a sly grin on her face.
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Post by LYRA THORNE on Jan 24, 2016 21:31:22 GMT -5
tonight I'll be the libertine Suddenly remembering that she is working at the establishment as a means to secure a steady flow of income and not just because she enjoys serving others, her training kicks in. "You should go in," Lyra urges, which essentially translates to stop bothering me. "We're having a special on the tea cakes today, where if you buy four pieces, you get a free portable fan — ow, shit — "There's the sound of a clang as her knife falls to the ground, joining her cigarette and lighter. Blood oozes through a fine line cut shallowly into her finger, and Lyra instinctively sticks it into her mouth, probably breaking a sanitation rule or two. "Be a mate and find me something to wrap this up, would you?" |
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Post by MELLOW on Jan 25, 2016 20:23:42 GMT -5
[googlefont="Roboto"] want you to want me again She sat there and watched her cut herself. Now, being the god of lust, she has every fetish known to man. She leans over the table and reaches for the girl's finger. She then brings it up to her mouth and licks the wound.
"All better now."
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Post by LYRA THORNE on Jan 26, 2016 1:33:32 GMT -5
tonight I'll be the libertine Lyra's face is completely scrunched and wrinkled in disgust. Wordlessly, she wipes the residual spittle on her smock. "No, not all better now. Worse. Much worse," she counters, unable to forget the feeling of the other girl's tongue on her finger. "You definitely did not have to do that, but it's fine. I know how you can compensate me."Nodding towards the notepad, her mouth briefly lifts into a triumphant smile. "Write me a song." |
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