Carlotta Brown (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fiery_ring) wrote2012-08-10 09:04 pm
fiery_ring) wrote2012-08-10 09:04 pm
Reception
The reception takes place in the Big Top, which is more than large enough to accommodate the crowd. Outside, a large hog roast is taking place, with food and drinks aplenty.
It's a good time for Carlotta to catch up with her friends from school, most of whom she hasn't seen since the start of the war. A few of them have married in that time and brought husbands, some are in work or still at university. A petite, pretty woman, Alison, has brought a daughter of about two; finally a distraction from an incessant need to worry what her hair looks like. A tall, strapping woman, Mirabel, is sporting a burn scar on her face; rumour has it, she has been serving in combat.
The circus folk mingle among the guests, bringing food and occasionally breaking out into acrobatics. At the front of the tent, Fred the Bouncer sits with Wolf, his large guard dog.
It's a good time for Carlotta to catch up with her friends from school, most of whom she hasn't seen since the start of the war. A few of them have married in that time and brought husbands, some are in work or still at university. A petite, pretty woman, Alison, has brought a daughter of about two; finally a distraction from an incessant need to worry what her hair looks like. A tall, strapping woman, Mirabel, is sporting a burn scar on her face; rumour has it, she has been serving in combat.
The circus folk mingle among the guests, bringing food and occasionally breaking out into acrobatics. At the front of the tent, Fred the Bouncer sits with Wolf, his large guard dog.
Re: Dancing
GRUMPY NOW.
He runs both hands through his hair.
"'M fine."
Pout. Grump. Grumble.
Re: Dancing
Beat.
"An' I did warn you earlier that he might be sneakin' about where y'couldn't see."
That counts for something, right?
Probably not. All right, new tack.
"Are you hurt?"
She comes in close, gently caressing his face.
Re: Dancing
Grump, grump, grump, pout.
She was right about the warning but he's not about to admit that.
Because moar pouting.
"No, 'm not hurt," he mumbles as he lets her touch his face.
He'll be okay.
He then reaches into an inside jacket pocket for a handkerchief (the suit conveniently came supplied with it).
"Do I still have lipstick on me...?" He rubs vaguely at his lips to check.
Re: Dancing
"That's what you're worried about right now?"
She gives him a Look, and shakes her head.
"I hope it's lipstick, an' not blood. Here — "
She holds out her hand, offering to take the handkerchief and help clean him up.
Re: Dancing
He pauses, eying her.
"I ain't the only one who's got red on 'em. You gotta fix your lipstick."
Re: Dancing
When he points out her smudged lipstick she pauses, eyes flicking to meet his. She sucks on her bottom lip.
"S'it bad?"
Maybe she could get a job at the circus as a clown. Her free hand experimentally wipes at her cheek.
Re: Dancing
A slight grimace flits across his face before he takes the handkerchief back, and holding her chin in his fingertips, he makes a few swipes under her lower lip.
Then a little more at the corners of her mouth.
Then a little more at the indentation between her upper lip and her nose.
"Yeah, that's good."
Wait, a just little more under her lip.
Re: Dancing
"Y'sure?"
She spies a spot she missed along his jaw, rubbing the smudge away with her thumb.
"Does this happen t'you with every gal you're with? All the woodland creatures flock t'you?"
Re: Dancing
He gives her a teasing smirk as he folds up the handkerchief and tucks it into a pocket.
"C'mon, lets get back before it gets dark and I attract a horde of crickets."
Re: Dancing
"Well, it never happened t'me before, either. So I reckon you an' I are either doin' somethin' very right, or — "
The likelier option.
" — very, very naughty."