|| Just keep working.... || Open ||
May 1, 2011 0:19:21 GMT -5
Post by wistaridakota on May 1, 2011 0:19:21 GMT -5
Seduce me,
Write letters to me.
Write letters to me.
It seemed to be a rather wonderful day outside, from what Alicia had felt on her small work to her father's cosmetics shop the sun didn't supply too much a bite today, and there seemed to be a slight breeze - though it was rather inconsistent, but Alicia didn't mind, as long as the air seemed to move a bit and didn't get too stuffy she was happy.
Alicia had already dropped off her dear little Elizabeth at training for the afternoon, since this was Alicia's last year as a possible tribute her training had seemed to have lightened.. Although many were convinced it fell on the dumb girl's deaf ears anyway. As this thought processed in Alicia's mind she frowned ever so slightly, shrugging it off rather quickly as she stepped into her father's shop. She wasn't surprised as a pair of rough hands grabbed her, shoving her into the small back room. The low, gruff words "Get changed, I'm going out" were barely audible to the girl through the small cracks around the door as she changed quickly into her usual white, billowing sleeve and ankle-length dress and pushing her usual elbow-length chocolate curls out of the way in the process. Cautiously the door was opened, her head poked around the door as she surveyed the shop with wide blue, thickly lashed eyes before convincing herself her father was gone.
Moments later delicate little hands were running over the new cosmetics stock, her usual blank look upon her face as she studied the new "chameleon" range, which seemed to stock everything from 'body spray paint' which claimed to last 24 hours, to 'nail polish' and 'eyeliner and mascara' with every other cosmetic product in between catered for. Absentmindedly Alicia set to work stocking it on the shelves her father had left empty, opening a couple of 'testers' before using them herself. According to her father people were more likely to buy something they saw on someone else, and liked, than they were if they were if they happened past it in a jar. For the second time that noon she shrugged, applying the 'blue chameleon' to her eyelids and up to her brows before turning her head this way and that to study it changing from a dark sky blue, to a purple, to a light green. Once satisfied with that she added the "chameleon red" to her lips, watching as that also changed colour - though this went from a blood red, to a sunset orange, to sunflower yellow depending on where it was viewed from.
A smile of delight was plastered upon currently red lips as she sat behind the counter, picking up a small white infant's frock she had started the previous afternoon. As she started on her work, her face seemed to melt back in to it's usual blank stare as she focused, though her gaze seemed to look past her needle work as her fingers threaded and stitched, over and over, barely looking at what she was doing. She had been sewing for years, and usually the same patterns, she'd be damned if she still needed the pattern or didn't know them by heart yet. Bright blue gaze was fixed on the door as practiced fingers guided the needle back and forth over the hems, waiting for either someone to come in or for the time to come where she had to lock the store and go fetch Elizabeth..
And poems,
I love poems.
I love poems.