a most peculiar flower

i used to dream in the dark of palisades park

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i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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a most peculiar flower
POSTED ON Feb 7, 2019 10:37:44 GMT
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What a lovely creature she was. Hair immaculately sculpted atop her head, skin as smooth and white as porcelain. Her attire drew in eyes from all over, kept them lingering.

Mick watched her as well. Her refined method of movement was telling of her upbringing. The general distaste that colored her subtle facial shifts meant she was not exactly on good terms with her predicament. Mick wondered who she was.

Mick set her cocktail back on its napkin. She licked the excess liquid from the corners of her lips and moved forward.

Isra Nightingale was a total stranger but her green hair made her recognizable. Mick crossed paths with her before. She was a frequent accompaniment to one as well. Beyond this, she was an enigma. Mick did not like mysteries.

She would slither in, encircle her, find out who she was and what way she could be influenced. It all started with a greeting.

”My, my. Your beauty struck me so strongly I found myself compelled to come say hello.” Mick smiled with warmth, gestured to the bar. ”May I buy you a drink and get to know the mind behind the vision?”



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The Nightingale
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Twenty four
November 11
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Heterosexual
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executive
Defiance in her flesh, her blood, her bones; written on her soul
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Isra Nightingale
a most peculiar flower
POSTED ON Feb 7, 2019 20:17:09 GMT
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Isra was not unused to the approach of another, especially in places such as this. She was well aware of how she stood out in a crowd and how it attracted people. It was often something she used to her advantage and tonight was no different, she wore a form fitting dress, hair up in a high ponytail to complete the elegance of her attire and give her a look almost exotic, a side effect of her pale skin being paired with tallness, long legs and heels making her a little over six feet tall. She was looking for something, though the attention she was getting wasn't quite right.

The woman would play along nonetheless.

"Thank you, if you feel so inclined then I am not inclined to stop you." her face was a perfectly neutral smile, accepting but not overly so. She looks the woman over and cannot be entirely certain if she has seen her or not. There are many more faces in her life now than there had been only months ago and many leave her eyesight as quickly as they reach it.

"Though I do believe it is customary to give one's name when making such an approach, no?" her smile turned much more inviting. Encouraging even. Though this woman was not what she was looking for it would take her away from the eyes of those she was looking for even less.

@mik

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a most peculiar flower
POSTED ON Feb 9, 2019 11:20:46 GMT
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Her return to the address confirmed Mick’s original suspicions about her. The green-haired woman fit the bill of nouvelle royalty from her gaze to her quips. Mick bowed her head respectfully, offered her hand as an escort towards the counter. She noted Isra’s lingering glances at Mick’s image. Uncertainty colored her features. Trying to remember if she’d ever seen Mick or not, eh?

Mick hoped she couldn’t recall. Though she could be ostentatious and hardly forgettable at times, she could also blend like a Cutiefly on the wall. Of all of their calculated encounters, Mick was always a mere passersby.

”Of course! Pardon me. You can call me Mick, if you please.” She chose a spot isolated from the rest of the party crowd and waved the bartender over. He came quickly once he spotted whom accompanied Mick to the bar. She wanted to scoff but thought better of it.

”Might I ask a return of the favor, miss? A pretty bird like you must have an equally pretty moniker to match.” Mick laughed, charmed.

She looked to the bartender before waiting for an answer. ”An old-fashioned, please. And whatever the lady likes as well.” Mick gestured to Isra.

Her other hand slipped slyly into a pocket, thumbed a packet of psychedelic compound resting there.

Isra was about to have a wondrous time in her company, Mick wondered if she was prepared.




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Endless

The Nightingale
She/her
Twenty four
November 11
Slateport
Heterosexual
Assistant
executive
Defiance in her flesh, her blood, her bones; written on her soul
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Isra Nightingale
a most peculiar flower
POSTED ON Feb 10, 2019 4:37:55 GMT
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Isra allows herself to be led away, taking a seat with grace. She's putting on a show of it tonight, it comes in handy when she needs it to. Something about the woman's eagerness and the flourish her voice irks her a smidge however. It feels like the kind of over practiced politeness she's used to from home.

"Melon crawl." the bartender will know what she's asking for despite it not being the full name. Why she calls it that is beyond her as the habit has already been formed.

She addresses her current company again. "call me Nightingale, if you would." By now her name has started to become familiar to people and she still hasn't quite gotten used to it. It's not just her involvement with The silph, it's her own involvement with the happenings of the league. A dangerous thing but unavoidable at this point. It is for that reason she gives the woman her last name instead, especially in this are. After what has occurred here, she is not eager to put her first name out there.

"I assume you are a frequenter of the area?" an attempt at small talk. Something to keep the conversation from lingering somewhere it shouldn't. Her name isn't of any real concern.

@mik

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