Violca 'VI' Maximoff (gypsyaudience) wrote in thedarkera, @ 2015-05-24 18:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | z-gypsy, z-lone wolf, z-vi |
Don't you forget about me
Whatever had come of the staff, Vi was putting out of her head. She had money to make, and cooping herself up indoors for fear of something that hadn't come to pass wasn't going to make it for her. She had things to do, people to see, strangers to meet and tell their fortunes to. She felt like she was missing out on life.
And the headaches had finally abated to the point that she could stand without wanting to cry, so it was time to venture back out into London, and find those that she was meant to see.
Her smile was all cheer, catching eyes of strangers, waiting for that shout of voice to tell her who to find, who to talk to, who to tell that they would be coming into a windfall. She wandered, aimless in direction but purposeful in reason. Eyes held high for those that had finery, a pocket watch with a chain that gleamed, boots not scuffed and reflecting the world around them, tophats not frayed from daily wear.
She hummed, some old song that stuck with her, that she dreamt about with bonfires and faceless shapes of people she might've once known. She hummed it loudly enough that in passing, people would hear, turn heads, watch the gypsy with hair to her waist shifting with the chime of beads and weighted belt at her hips, carpet bag held, the eternal traveler.