| Jörð | (gogreenplease) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-03-07 20:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | jord, morgause |
Who: Jord and OPEN.
What: Trying to disappear in a dive bar.
When: Saturday night, tenish
Where: A dive in The Village
Warnings: TBD.
Jord was used to playing her cards close to her chest. In fact, she rarely did anything else. By nature, she was not the sort of goddess to throw herself into anything too deeply, and though she certainly held a propensity for taking various beings and creatures under her wing, she hardly considered them 'friends' or mentally applied any other such sentimental labels. But at this moment, at this time, she had an incredible 'hand', so to speak, perhaps a royal flush, and at the very least, a full house. It was terribly exciting, but keeping all of those plans, all of those delicate workings under wraps...was difficult. At the very least. Sometimes it was exhausting.
So the goddess had found her way to one of the dives fairly close to her dwelling and had knocked back quite a bit of alcohol already, the warmth of it swimming through her, making her problems, plans, and solutions seem pleasantly distant. Was she drunk? No, she was not, but she was nicely tipsy. Among the hipsters and the college kids, she wasn't terribly noticeable, but neither did she actually look as thought she belonged. In a fitted, deep red button-up shirt and black pants that tucked into her knee-high, black leather lace-up boots, hair unruly and pinned into some semblance of behavior, she looked like some strange hybrid between a businesswoman and a artsy sort, which wasn't terribly far from the truth.
The goddess sat at the bar, amusing herself by smoking openly and watching the mortals wonder where the smoke-smell was coming from. Bless them, but sometimes, they had no idea where to look. A smirk was curled across her lips as her smoke wafted around a very confused and unhappy bartender. Several empty shot glasses were scattered on the counter before her, a half-finished whiskey-and-Coke that was quite a bit more whiskey than Coke was swirled lazily in her left hand. It felt good to get away from her responsible, increasingly complicated life. It felt nice to escape.