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Brynhild Ingouf (brynhild_ingouf) wrote in entrywaythreads,

Bryn glanced back at the speaker. Constantine. She bent down, making sure to bend at her waist, and gather her bag, into which she placed the records she'd 'won'. She didn't want the vendor to hear her trade secrets, plus he wasn't the only one watching her either.

"I wouldn't say always. You have to have a feel for if that is going to work or not. Sometimes I use other means, something more along the lines with what we talked about via text." She glanced back at the vendor, she could smell his attraction. Maybe if he found that Benny Goodman for her she'd let him know that she worked at the Brothel. She gave him a little smile.

"Constantine, I presume?" She'd had more of a drawl with the vendor, something she learned some of them responded better to, than how she naturally spoke. Now that she was out of earshot of him, she didn't bother with the put on. Her natural accent was a mix of proper Londoner, with a Georgia southern stretch to the words, peppered with her own Norse, but that was faint... She had to wonder if talking to the man she approached would refresh her British Isle brogue.