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| And the Morning After. | |
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| Topic Started: 4 May 2008, 02:27 AM (293 Views) | |
| Deleted User | 4 May 2008, 02:27 AM Post #1 |
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{{ooc: hooray for crappy titles! and I suppose I should state that it's open too <3}} There was always a few sweet seconds in the morning when Giselle was just waking up and had no idea what was going on. All she knew was that she was sleepy and disorientated, and she only had a bit of a headache. That was always a good indicator that she hadn't drunk too much the night before only to feel terrible most of the day afterwards. Then of course her senses gathered themselves and she remembered her life and felt utterly depressed. Very melodramatic of her, really. Yes, she was in a bed, naked as usual and there was also someone else, who had all the sheets tangled up in his legs. He had managed to drag them all off Giselle, leaving her rather bare and annoyed, and all her tugging and pulling trying to get some bedding back didn't amount to anything but a grunting snore. Huffing in an irritated manner, Giselle decided to get up anyway and get dressed. It always amazed her about how long it took her to get dressed, but how quickly she could get her clothes off. Looking from the window, outside it was still quite early, she could tell by the light. There was still activity in the street but generally this time or morning it was fairly subdued with passed out people lying in the streets or nursing sore heads. It would pick up again towards later morning when everyone commenced drinking again, but now was actually calm-ish. Calm for Tortuga anyway. Back to the matter at hand. Giselle scanned the rented room looking for her clothes. Her gown was over in a crumpled pile on the floor near the door, and basically everything else strewn else where. She couldn't put on her stay by herself, but she slipped on her shift so she had at least something on. Now she thought it was best to wake up the man, whether he was happy to get up this early or not. She ventured over and poked him roughly with her foot a couple of times, before pushing him off the bed. The faster he got up the faster she could leave, and she needed him to help her get dressed anyway. "Get up!" She sounded annoyed and abrupt, eager to get out of the stuffy room as soon as possible. |
 
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| Deleted User | 4 May 2008, 11:13 PM Post #2 |
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So early in the morning, and Scarlett was already on her feet. At least, her body was was up and alert, but her mind was still half asleep and and only half aware of her surroundings. Weariness aside, who could be fully aware in this sort of situation anyway? Her head was pounding, and the bright morning light certainly did not help. Scarlett did not look much better than she felt, either. Her flaming red hair was badly in need of a wash and only half pinned up, and she was dressed in a rather sloppy manner. Though, even with a disheveled appearance and a hangover, she still managed to feel confident in herself. This confidence came from a certain piece of knowledge that she though no one else knew: mornings could be just as profitable as nights. Sometimes, maybe more profitable. There were always pirates and sailors making port, drunks who needed comfort from the harsh daylight, and little in the way of competition. It was a nice little niche, indeed. Scarlett slipped into the dimly-lit tavern that had become her usual haunt, and her eyes and pounding head thanked her for stepping out of the sunlight. Much as she expected, the place was nearly empty: nobody except for herself, the barkeep, and a handful of drunks. Far from ideal working conditions, but nothing terrible at all. With a coy smile on her face, she walked over to a lone man in the corner and softly touched his cheek. "Pardon, sir," she said, "But if you're still feeling ill from last night, I can help." |
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4:02 AM Jul 30
