Audrey "Aud" Carpenter (shyviolet) wrote in repose, @ 2020-07-07 13:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | *log, audrey carpenter, easy beverly |
Log: Audrey and Easy.
Who: Audrey Carpenter and Easy Beverly.
What: Meeting and assessing damage to her old room.
When: Today, afternoon.
Rating: None at the moment. Maybe PG for language?
She hadn't been kidding about the headache. That was a bitch. Men. Ridiculous. She kept glancing at her phone half pondering if certain people would be reaching out to her again. If certain people had opened their mouths, or in the modern world? Moved their fingers quickly. Badumkoosh, as Holly would suggest. Her eyes finally cast away from the glow of her screen to the man assessing the very damaged room. He was bigger than she anticipated, and honestly, she was expecting big; men who worked in construction typically were. However, she wasn't expecting big, chiseled and ... was it brooding? Mmm. Too quick to asses as of yet. She shoved her phone unceremoniously into the back pocket of her jean shorts. It was hot in the room, too. The air had been turned off, the rain of the previous days caused a heavy mugginess to settle over the atmosphere, thick and difficult to breathe in without wanting to choke. She could feel the beginnings of sweet beading on the back of her neck, right near the hair line. Crossing her bare arms she leaned against the doorway. God, she didn't want to pay to have this shit cleaned up. At least keeping up pretenses might be over soon--if, and it was a heavy if--they played their pieces right. She could feel a squirming inside her. She lifted her chin squashing it down, way, way down. Play nice. Down into the dark. She flashed a smile. "I know this place looks really bad, but..." Her shoulders lifted helplessly then felt back down just as easily. The room was definitely still a disaster: the faint scent of sulfur still lingered in the air, windows were busted, the bed was flipped over and the precious books Audrey had so loved were still in disarray all over the floor. Even the wall paper bordering on the edges of the ceiling? Had curled unnaturally downward. She pushed herself away from the door: petite frame, red lipped lady, black tank, black shorts and cropped hair. She looked ridiculously small next to Easy's statuesque build. She wasn't a dancer, but she had the body of one. Looping her thumbs into her belt loops puckering her lips to one side, playing the part of pensively clueless. It was marred by the way her lips peeled back in a crooked grin. "So, what's the damage?" |