vivien; (sans_merci) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2010-09-20 23:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | colin craven, la belle dame sans merci |
Who: Isolde and Colt
What: Meetings and a lack of neighborliness
Where: Aubade, first floor hallway
When: This evening?
Warnings: Swears at the most?
Generally speaking, Isolde didn’t come into her apartment by herself and very late often. She was prone to realizing things with hangovers or after she’d spent more time with someone. It wasn’t often that her latest ‘romance’ lasted a grand total of fifteen minutes. She met him at the bar, fell, and as he began to explain his sister’s medical issues she fell out of it again. She made her excuses for the bathroom, climbed out the window with only a small tear to her black dress and called a taxi.
Her phone buzzed away in her clutch the whole ride home; impossible to deal with. She devoted her time to inquiring after the taxi driver who seemed put out for a Monday night. Isolde gave him a lack-luster tip as a result, before striding her way indoors. She didn’t smile at the doorman and merely kept walking down the hall, muttering to herself.
“You need a job, you need to meet some people of quality as it’s never going to happen this way-” She dug out her key from her clutch and shut her phone off pointedly. The vibrations stopped and with the slightest of triumphant smiles, she stuck the key in and turned. Fate – which she did believe in – decided to further embarrass her. The key stuck without turning in either direction.
Her expression tightened and she attempted to jiggle the handle. Nothing. Not even the slightest budge. She tried again, using all the force she could manage – which wasn’t much. Heaving a massive exasperated sigh, she slid down the door, crossing her legs in front of her. She fished out her cell phone again, intending to turn it back on. Wasn’t a man of the hour from a few weeks ago, skilled at breaking and entering?