Open + Closed 「 There are times when I miss the light... 」

[theycalledmeacurse]

Who: Rogue (theycalledmeacurse) & you!
What: Bartending adventures, making new work acquaintances, and catching up with old friends!
When: Month of September
Where: Shades Darker, Red Light District, refugee housing, and various other locations
Warning(s): Some threads may contain brief mention of torture and imprisonment. Opt-outs are available at Rogue's permissions.

[ OOC: Closed and open prompts in the comments! Want something else? Get in touch via PM, taintedcrimson, or taintedcrimson#0896 and I'll set something up for you! ]

Comments

{ open | shades darker } lost one, tell me do you want to be found

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ Working at Shades Darker has been an experience, that's for sure. One that Rogue has grown to enjoy, but still one that takes her by surprise at times. It is a brothel, after all, even if she simply tends the bar for it. There are regulars she's come to recognize, and less frequent or first time visitors who seem curious more than anything. Her fellow refugees tend to be among that crowd, coming in to see what the fuss is about or visiting someone they know who works there in some capacity. Whatever their reason for being there, she doesn't judge, just offers a charming smile and greets them all the same in her smooth southern drawl. ]

Evening, sugar. What's your pleasure tonight?

[ Go ahead, make a joke. Flirt your heart out, comment on her unusual hair. She's heard it all before. ]

[twofates]

[ Roman is definitely an infrequent visitor. In fact, this is his first time here, and he's not sure he's really all that interested in the brothel. He is, however, drawn to the woman behind the bar more than he is to anyone else. ]

What do people usually say when you ask that?

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ It's her standard greeting for all patrons of the establishment, but she can't help the very non-standard grin that grows at the sight of someone she's been looking forward to seeing again. Leaning her arms against the bar, she tilts her head at him with a fondness in her eyes and gives an extremely honest answer. ]

Half the time I just get a request for a drink, but the rest usually try for something clever in the hope of getting into my pants later.

[maipokerface]

[Mai is at least a little recognizable most likely, if not for the hair then for her presence in the brothel now and then. She seems to be security for the most part, sticking to the shadows and helping from the sidelines more than the other security might. Now and then though she seems to moonlight as a model, at least if one pays attention to the habits of their coworkers.

Either way tonight is a generally calm one and a drink doesn't hurt now and then. It's more a habit of hers to lean on the bar than anything else.]

Spicy. [A pause, then the shrug of one shoulder.] I'm not picky.

{ closed to giovanni | red light district } yet i see not black and white but silver and gray

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ The nice thing about working at Shades Darker? It's physically tiring. Being on her feet for hours, having to put on the mask of the charming flirtatious southern belle, it leaves her blissfully tired and gives her a fleeting hope of being able to sleep that night and actually getting rest. The more exhausted she is, the less likely she is to be plagued by memories of the war, both her own and those stolen from others.

But even if she's tired, worn to the bone and wanting nothing more than a pillow under her head, that doesn't mean her manners go into hiding. When she notices the man walking along in the same direction, a man she's seen before patrolling the district, she can't not say hello. ]

Good evening, sugar. I hope it's been a quiet night for you.

[ofobedience]

[Sleep - and the nightmares that come with it - is a difficult thing for many, it seems. Or for the two of them, at least, linked in this one aspect despite that it remains unknown to them. He likes night patrols for this reason-- it gives purpose to the wanderings he'd no doubt undertake regardless, the listless pacing of a shadow, of a ghost, turned into something meaningful through his current line of work. Something solid for him to focus on besides the convoluted labyrinth of the past that moves inside him still, or the death of his dark little world, of how the only others who share such ugly memories are currently locked in a deep cold sleep aboard Thesa Station. They encroach on him even now, but more quietly when he has the practical task of patrolling the Red Light district to take up some of the space such things would otherwise occupy.

And it comes as little surprise to him when the woman cutting through the dark of the night along with him speaks up, addresses him. In this district, everyone often seems friendlier, more eager to engage, either through the act of solicitation or polite greetings for someone who's employed to protect them (a funny thing, considering what he is, what he's done in a past now obliterated by the Storm.)

He lifts his chin, lips parting on a crooked smile that breaks only when he speaks.]

Quiet enough. I trust yours has been less so?

[In a more positive light, of course. He's seen her around. Has an idea where she works.]

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ It's that friendliness that has Rogue genuinely enjoying her evenings spent in the RLD, far more than most would likely expect considering she doesn't partake of most of its regular offerings. But she's come from a world where she was hated and feared, where so many turned against each other because one small genetic difference that no one had control over. Being around people who actually smile and laugh and enjoy themselves? It's a really nice chance of pace.

She gives him an amused smile, reaching up to brush her white-striped brown hair back over her shoulder. ] I stayed busy. Everyone enjoys a good drink.

[ofobedience]

It does seem that way. Hahah.

[His own response comes out a little wry, dry-edged-- it does seem as though most of the citizens here enjoy the benefits of alcohol, just as many no doubt had in the twisted city from which he hails. But his own physiological augmentations keep him from knowing the pleasure of it, and even without that he wonders vaguely if it's really something he would enjoy. Self-obliteration, the numbing of one's senses along with what seems to be a swift descent into foolishness-- he can't see the fun in it, himself.]

{ open to two | refugee housing } i gaze up at the midnight sky, can't find a single star

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ ooc: limiting this prompt to just two people, please! ]


[ Ever since Kara went back to sleep, it's gotten harder for Rogue to avert the nightmares that constantly plague her rest. Haunting images of the war that would have ended her world if the Storm hadn't gotten to it first, memories of the atrocities committed by humans against each other, stolen glimpses of lives not her own. She tosses and turns in the night, during the day, whenever she closes her eyes and tries to find a few moments of peace.

Most times she can manage on her own, deep calming breaths and a pillow clutched to her chest, settled by the open window and looking up at the open sky. A sight she hadn't known for those three years of captivity, and the easiest way to remind herself that she's there no longer.

But then there are the truly bad nights, when she screams in her sleep and her soul is dragged over glass as she bursts back into wakefulness and remembers that all of it was real. When she hopes that no one heard her, that no one will come knocking at her door because she doesn't know if she can hold it together right now. In five minutes, ten, but not now. Right now she needs to fall apart and she needs for no one to see. ]

wild card!! @ shades darker

[stabilis]

[ Sometimes it's difficult to tell whether or not the people on the ground are the ones he's seen on the station, in passing. Other times, those people have extremely distinctive streaks of white hair that make them kind of hard to miss.

A 24/7 establishment means it's been easy for them to end up on opposite shifts, but eventually they aren't. Johnny doesn't bother with the 'are you a refugee, or are you a refugee' song and dance, leaning over the bar and trying to get her attention with a smile. ] Hey— employees drink free, right?

[theycalledmeacurse]

[ It's not the first time she's seen him - that was on the station, when she was sure she'd seen a ghost because she'd just left Bobby in the stasis unit. In the weeks since then, she'd almost forgotten that ghost existed at all.

Almost.

Even though she can see at a glace that it's not Bobby, the sight of him still tries to take her breath away. There's no affection in that gaze, no shared memories in the smile, and after a moment she's grateful. She's not ready to face him yet. ]

Only if you don't abuse the privilege. [ There's a bit of friendly sass in that southern drawl, but it falls flat from her usual efforts. ] What'll you have?