baby, look at me now

26 | local drink slinger and street musician

[marvelousmarvellakrofter]

Full Name/Nickname: Marvella ‘Ella’ Krofter

Age/DOB: 26. Born March 16th, 1995

Zodiac Sign: Pieces

Gender: Cis Female | She/her

Place of Birth: Rockland, Maine

Arrondissement:  Entrepôt/10th

Sexual/Romantic Orientations: Pansexual

Religion: None

Occupation: bartender at le comptoir bar / street musician

PERSONALITY:

Goals/Desires: She dreams of making it big and traveling the world, mixing her passions with her mother’s by intertwining both English and French through out her work. 

Fears: losing another sense, getting robbed

Hobbies: writing, watching disney movies, singing, playing guitar, and drinking

Likes & Dislikes:  Likes: disney, music, meeting new people, going on adventures, helping friends run errands Dislikes: when her anger takes over, rude and disrespectful people, spiders, and snails.

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

FAMILY

Parents:  Béatrice Bouche-Krofter (deceased), Elias Krofter

Sibling(s): none

Pet(s): a one eyed tabby cat

POTENTIAL CONNECTIONS: (TW:DRINKING)

Drinking Buddy:  Ella is an avid drinker and needs a drinking buddy or two to help keep her from trying to sleep with one half of the bar and fight the other half. It would be a close relationship where Ella has no doubt confined in them while having a drink too many.  Co-Workers: Working at the local bar in town is bound to get her some co-workers and Ella loves her co-workers. She’s the type to always make sure that the kitchen is good before anything else, so I would really like a decent relationship with some of the cooks that work there. She’d be sending back shots from paying customers and tall glasses of water all night. That’s not to say she wouldn’t get along with swimmingly with a fellow FOH member, though. Ella is a team player -- and the first one to offer to pick up a shift on one wants. Hookups/FWB: In the city of love, Ella wants to explore. She’s not looking for anything serious at the moment and is a pansexual woman just looking to have some fun with whoever may cross her path -- drunk or sober. 

Biography

(Trigger Warnings: Hearing Loss, Death, Pregnancy)

     From a young age, Marvella was told she was destined for greatness. Her father's miracle baby that he clung to with every fiber of his being. Marvella was born from love, that much she knew. Before her mothers untimely passing, Marvella had no idea who she was. She was only a baby, after all. Marvella's mother died after blessing the young women with the name meaning miracle in French. After suffering from Rubella early on in her pregnancy, her mother was still recovering and it was a messy birth. There was only so much the doctors could do and it was either Marvella or her mother -- and her mother chose Marvella's life over her own.            Rubella didn't only take her mother from her, but due to complications in the pregnancy from her mother having it, she has moderate to severe hearing loss in her right ear and is required to wear a hearing aid in that ear. That's never slowed her down, though. Even with hearing loss, Marvella loved music and everything that had to do with her. Her father played her record after record of the tunes he sang to make her mother fall in love with him and the ones that got him through the tough times when he didn't want to get up in the morning. Marvella has always felt like music saved her father's life, and because of that she has held it near and dear to her heart.         At the age of 24, Marvella's longing to know her mother finally clouded her brain in ways that made it almost impossible to be in America. With her father's blessing and some cash, she made her way to the place she had only seen in pictures -- Paris.          Upon her arrival she quickly realized that it wasn't going to be as easy as she thought it would. Sure, she was fluent in French because that's what her mother would have wanted from her, but it wasn't like the movies and the books made it out to be. There were new social norms to uphold or else you'd be deemed impolite and wearing pjs out in public wasn't exactly socially acceptable. That never stopped Marvella from giving up, though.                  Since moving to Paris, Marvella has taken up bartending at the local bar on 10th and singing on the street or in whatever hole in the wall bar that would let her, hearing loss be damned. She sang the French love songs her father taught her and even wrote some songs of her own. It's very rare that you see the spunky, sassy, yet shy Marvella walking around without her journal to write inspiration in and if she's ever without out, just know it's going to be a rough day for everyone. PERSONALITY. + grateful, optimistic, insightful                            - anger issues, not shy, possessive

[marvelousmarvellakrofter]

celinelaurent·:

—

Celine raised her eyebrows at the compliment. It was not that she didn’t enjoy flattery - I mean who didn’t? - or that it was unwelcome. There had been a time when going out was all about finding someone to pay her a pretty compliment and begin the harmless game of back and forth. Now it was about giving her just one night off from her real life. She glanced down at her scuffed shoes and worn out jeans. She certainly didn’t put anywhere near the effort in she once had, but if someone was going to call her lovely. Who was she to dispute it.

“A free drink? Who would I be if I turned that down,” she agreed with a shrug. It would certainly help the near-empty purse she had if her first drink was on the house.

“But not beer though,” she said, wrinkling her nose. Even if the drink was gifted to her she didn’t want to waste it on something warm and watery.

Ella couldn’t help the excitement at the woman’s offer and clapped her hands lightly with a small jump of joy. A new friend, perhaps? Or at least that’s what Ella hoped. “Why, you’d be a mad man!” The woman exclaimed enthusiastically with a joking laugh. 

She laughed one more when her nose wrinkled up at the sound of beer. “I can respect that,” she started, “ -- how does a nice glass of whiskey sound? Hmm - or there’s always wine!” Ella was a big wine and whiskey fan and also recognized that beer tasted nothing like flat piss water and she really just didn’t find the appeal in that. “This is where I work so hopefully I make my co-workers by having a stunning woman on my arm,” she jokingly flirted and bumped her shoulders with hers. “Oh, I’m Marvella, by the way, but please -- call me Ella.”

[marvelousmarvellakrofter]

julienandre·:

.

     “Est ce que je?” A brow raised only slightly in question. Julien was sure he looked a bit rough around the edges with tired eyes and a two day scruff going along his jaw. There hadn’t been much sleep coming his way, his motivations upon his return leaving him to toss and turn when he did find a few winks. “French would be nice. Something to make me feel more at home.” Though it didn’t reach his ocean eyes, a soft smile curved Julien’s lips. He ran a hand through his messy sandy blond hair as a slow revelation resonated that he felt something of a stranger in the city he’d called home since he had been ten years of age. 

     For weeks now he’d pounded the pavement and scoured la Ville Lumière with the familiarity of someone once so prominently featured. Street performers had always been someone that Sébastien would stop for and now, eyeing her as she stepped closer, he felt himself weighted with his lost twin’s presence. “Do you have a favorite song?” The way his heart pounded against the confines of his chest, hearing his pulse in his ears — Julien knew it would be best to converse rather than let himself feel haunted in that moment. “Or, better yet, what’s the first song you ever played on one of these streets?”

Ella wanted to comment that yes, yes he did look like he needed borrow her smile but she didn’t want to ruin the moment. Her goal now was to distract the stranger and maybe catch herself a smile. A sexual innuendo played on her tongue and she wanted badly to say it and she somehow managed to resist the urge. She didn’t want to scare the poor guy off. “French to feel at home? I can do that for you” Her fingers played the soft melody of an old French song as she racked her brain for which one might be best. 

“Hmmm,” Ella hummed in thought then tuned back in to what the male before her was saying. “The first song I played?” She remembered back to second night here and how homesick she was. She longed to just run back to her father and pretend this Paris dream didn’t happen, but she knew she couldn’t do that. She felt as if she belonged here and she couldn’t just leave. “I played this song on my second night here. I missed my father terribly and this was the song he would sing to my mother all the time before she --” Ella stops and realizes she’s oversharing about herself again so she clears her throat and strums the beginning of the song Ne me quitte pasSong by Jacques Brel. “Ne me quitte pas. Il faut oublier. Tout peut s'oublier,” she sang softly to him.

[marvelousmarvellakrofter]

lenareis·:

          “Rebonjour Ella.” Dark eyes settled on her bartender and moonlighting musician who she often listened to for a while when Marvella would play outside of Le Comptoir following a shift. “Are you not playing tonight?” It had been a busy evening and the bar had been slammed with patrons and drink orders for tables. Despite Ella’s youth and vibrance, Lena had to assume that she got exhausted sometimes too. The grin was returned with a smile that verged on morphing into a smirk. With tired feet wrapped in heels and an uneasy feeling that wasn’t subsiding, the brunette just wanted to get home and rest. She wasn’t even old, yet sometimes she wished she had Ella’s energy.

          As they began to walk, headed toward the eighth, Lena’s smile deepened and became more lopsided by the second when her dark eyes caught the wink. “Keep flirting with me Ella and I just might take you up on that one of these days.” A mild and playful threat but a warning nonetheless. 

          Cold fingers found their way into her coat pockets, keeping herself close to her company as they strolled down the sidewalk and put the bar behind them. It was a good night and a welcomed escape from the way her mind would wander and fixate on her stresses — specifically the mess with her family. Distractions had become commonplace for the Lena and she was glad that for a while longer she didn’t have to succumb to the worries laying in wait in the back of her mind. “Did you have a good night? It was so busy, I hope you made some great tips.” It may have been a conversation starter, something to accompany their walk, the brunette was curious to know regardless. To her it was important that everyone was doing well.

     “I actually just got done. I only did an hour set tonight. It was busy tonight so now I’m just kind of ready for bed,” she explained with a shrug. In all honestly her feet were killing her and her eye lids felt like they could close shut any moment, but that didn’t stop Ella from trying to spread the music through the streets. 

      At her ‘threat’, Ella couldn’t help but perk up slightly and a pep came to her step. “Oh, come on, don’t get my hopes up like that, Lena, you’ll only wound my poor poor heart when you realize that you are far out of my league.” She giggled and adjusted the strap of her guitar case on her back. She figured it was simply harmless and she didn’t get her actual hopes up -- especially since Lena was her boss and she wasn’t even sure if she was interested in females the way Ella was. Though, she was pansexual and far more attracted to personalities than genders so it’s not like that was a defining factor for the young American. 

     As they walked the streets, Ella continued to play close attention to Lena to make sure she didn’t miss anything. It was very easy for her to get distracted by the beauty of Paris. “Ah, yes, I did! Gonna buy myself a new guitar with the money I’ve been saving up and tonight helped immensely.” It was busy and packed -- just the way Ella liked it. She would bounce around the bar and be boisterous and lively and the customers seemed to eat her up because of it. She let a beat of silence pass before she asked what had been eating at her. “You seem distracted, madam, are you okay?”

[marvelousmarvellakrofter]

chefjenkins·:

Romeo wasn’t working tonight and of course he found himself back at Le Comptoir. He had just overheard Ella singing and waited for her to finish up with her last costumer.  He waved her over to the bar and smiled. “Ella, m’dear. How are you doin’ this fine evening?” Romeo asked her with hint of concern in his voice. His co-worker often reminded him of his sisters and on more than one occasion he had offered her more food than some of the other bartenders.  He finished up his drink and placed it back on the bar. “Are you working this weekend?” He asked. “We should go to the farmer’s market. I know a real good one.” Romeo told her. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Oh, could I get another one, too?” He asked politely. 

She spotted Romeo before he had called her over and was eager to make her way over to him. He was her favorite co-worker and, as she liked to think in her head, some very good eye candy. She was a bartender, but that didn’t mean she didn’t make sure the kitchen was taken care of, too. She made sure they always had water ( or shots ) and that servers stayed out of the window unless they were actually helping. Approaching him, she gently presses a kiss to each cheek before giving him a beaming smile. “Romeo, my love, you’re here!” Her cheeks were lightly tinted red, a sign she’s been offered a shot or two from patrons. 

“Oh, I’m doing lovely, Romeo, don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours. I’d be doing better if you met me in the walk-in, though” She shoots him a playful wink before stepping back behind the bar. The other bartender was out for a smoke break and she offered to cover for her while she was out. “Hmmm -- no, I don’t think I work this weekend. I worked last weekend so I have this one off.” At the sound of a farmers market the young woman perked up. “Oh yes, please! I would love to go to the farmer’s market with you!”

At his request, she poured him another drink and slid it over to him. She then took Jameson and Peach Tree and did a 6 count of both into a shaker before adding some lemon lime soda to it as well. She shook it until it was cold and then carefully poured it into two separate shot glasses and handed Romeo one. “I’ve had 2 of these so far and I fucking love Green Tea shots. Do one with me!”

[marvelousmarvellakrofter]

caoimhinp​:

You would think five years in a city and you might be fluent but Caoimhín and languages weren’t the best of friends, to put it kindly. His ex had tried to teach him the whole time they were together and he would find all sorts of ways to mess it up. Instead, he relied on a charming ignorance and a hopeful smile. “That was lovely,” he commented as he placed the change in her case. Sure he might not have understood a word but he grew up listening to songs in Irish and he can barely understand a word of that either. You don’t have to speak a language to hear the beauty in it, that’s what he believed anyway. 

“Ah, bonjour…” he mumbled with a tinge of red on his pale cheeks. Speaking french always felt insincere to him as he didn’t really have a clue. “A drink would be great,” he answered with a relief smile. “Awk no, don’t be saying that. I put that money in there for the song,” he argued back as he made himself comfortable. “I’ll buy my own and if you’re allowed, then I’ll buy you one too - to thank you for entertaining us all.”

A soft blush graced her cheeks at the compliment and she gave a mock bow with a giggle. “Thank you!” She offered him another smile at his french and she could tell it wasn’t the most comfortable language for him. It was no problem to Ella seeing as English was her first language, she just tended to try to slip into French whenever she could as to not have the natives have to try to understand her English if they didn’t somehow learn it. 

She stood from her stool and began the process of taking care of her beloved guitar as he offered her up a drink. “Ah, okay, if you insist. Really twisting my arm here,” she joked and shot him a wink. “Oh, it’s very much allowed and I would never turn a drink down from a handsome individual like yourself.”

[marvelousmarvellakrofter]

kolking·:

     …and do many things with them. The weight of exhaustion pulled on Kol but the amusement and soft chuckle at her implied wording defied his lack of energy and enthusiasm. “Well I am an engineer,” he played, though kept it safe. “I’ve given it a shot on the guitar a few times but I suppose it’s too different of movements for me to really be any good at it.” Kol wasn’t even that great at the piano. Not that he couldn’t play a vast collection of music, he was just unable to write his own and had a tendency to butcher anything too complicated. “You know what… I’d like that.” Maybe learning how to play the guitar and practicing at all hours of the night when sleep eluded him would help make the time pass. 

     “Do I know BB King?” Incredulous, red rimmed bleary eyes widened and Kol’s hand went to his chest. “One of the greatest bluesmen of all time?” With a shake of his head and pfft sounding from him, the young woman was offered the best smile he could muster at the moment. He was grateful for two things then: she didn’t ask about his sobriety and someone her age knew King. Maybe tonight was shaping up fairly decently. “Alright, I guess I can sing with you but if it runs all of your audience off you’ll have to remember that you asked…”

She rose her eyebrows at what his job title was and couldn’t help the look of impress that crossed her features. “Engineer? Wow -- look at me go, I was right! Very good with your hands.” She giggled and gave him a harmless wink and a small smile. At his agreement, she let a wide grin grace her lips and sat up slightly straighter with pure excitement on her face. “Yeah? Really? Oh goodness, this is going to be fun!” Teaching someone how to play was her favorite thing next to actually playing herself. Any way she could spread the music would help make her a little happier for sure. 

The young woman rose from her seat on the stool her boss let her stash in the storage room of the bar. Her slim fingers played a couple of more cords when he lifted his hand to his chest. She figured he knew, but it seemed like blues were getting less and less popular. “Hey, I just had to make sure,” she said as she rose her hands in the air in playful defense as she giggled once more. “Oh, please, even if you can’t sing, that très magnifique face of yours will surly keep them coming back.” 

It sounded a little different on an acoustic guitar, but Ella made due as she continued to play the song. Her eyes slipped closed as she let herself feel the music and began to sing along to the melody. She opened her eyes and connected them with his and offered him a smile of reassurance as she sang and swayed to the music.

[marvelousmarvellakrofter]

nephi-almasri·:

Nephi nodded enthusiastically, though he figured a lot of people thought Stromae’s newest song was a bob, it wasn’t really one you could get away from, especially not in a country where any song in French was celebrated. Pop songs were great, but most French people still listened to the artists that sang in their own language. “It is! I have been listening to it on repeat ever since it was released,” he said, almost vibrating on the spot. He either listened to mainstream music like this, or more unknown French rap and hip-hop that barely hit the lists. He smiled at her French, she wasn’t a native, but she did try, which he had to appreciate since aside from Egyptian Arabic and French, he wasn’t versed enough in any other language. “Je m’appelle Nephi,” he said in return, defaulting to basic French because he worried speaking casually might confuse her. “Enchante,” he repeated, leaving the very formal addition away, though he had to admit it was cute coming from her, he continued in French, picking easy words and sentences like he’d been taught at school. “Where are you from?”

French music was one of Ella’s favorite things. The language was a comfort for her and with a song like the one that was just blaring through her headphones it was easy to get lost in it. It helped that the beat was loud and when she listened to it at home with her eyes closed and hearing aid out, she could feel it pulsing through her far better than hearing it could ever feel in her opinion. “I like the beat the most,” she agreed with a wide grin. “And the meaning is so much more than what one would think!” 

“Nephi?” Ella had to repeat the name to make sure that she could remember it for a later date. “I like that name. Very beautiful. Matches the person.” And there was the flirting she couldn’t help but do as she shot him a playful wink. She perked up slightly when he continued to speak French to her. French was like a second language to her but she felt as though it was easier to speak it than understand it sometimes -- especially when trying to read lips to help herself focus on what the person was saying. “I’m from Maine!” She replied back in French. “You? Are you from around here?”

[parisrp]

un — THE CHARACTER

NAME: Marvella ‘Ella’ Krofter

AGE: 26

BIRTHDAY: March 16,1995

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cis Female, she/her

OCCUPATION: Bar singer and bartender

BIRTHPLACE: Rockland, Maine

ARRONDISSEMENT: Entrepôt/10th

LENGTH OF TIME IN PARIS: 2 years with 1 year being an official citizen due to her mother originally being born and raised in Paris. 

deux —  THEIR STORY

Trigger Warnings: hearing loss, death

From a young age, Marvella was told she was destined for greatness. Her father’s miracle baby that he clung to with every fiber of his being. When Marvella was born from love, that much she knew. Before her mothers untimely passing, Marvella had no idea who she was. She was only a baby, after all. Marvella’s mother died after blessing the young women with the name meaning miracle in French. After suffering from Rubella early on in her pregnancy, her mother was still recovering and it was a messy birth. There was only so much the doctors could do and it was either Marvella or her mother – and her mother chose Marvella’s life over her own.     

Rubella didn’t only take her mother from her, but due to complications in the pregnancy from her mother having it, she has moderate to severe hearing loss in her right ear and is required to wear a hearing aid in that ear. That’s never slowed her down, though. Even with hearing loss, Marvella loved music and everything that had to do with her. Her father played her record after record of the tunes he sang to make her mother fall in love with him and the ones that got him through the tough times when he didn’t want to get up in the morning. Marvella has always felt like music saved her father’s life, and because of that she has held it near and dear to her heart.         

At the age of 24, Marvella’s longing to know her mother finally clouded her brain in ways that made it almost impossible to be in America. With her father’s blessing and some cash, she made her way to the place she had only seen in pictures – Paris.

    Upon her arrival she quickly realized that it wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought it would. Sure, she was fluent in French because that’s what her mother would have wanted from her, but it wasn’t like the movies and the books made it out to be. There were new social norms to uphold or else you’d be deemed impolite and wearing pjs out in public wasn’t exactly socially acceptable. That never stopped Marvella from giving up, though.     

Since moving to Paris, Marvella has taken up bartending at the local bar on 10th and singing on the street or in whatever hole in the wall bar that would let her, hearing loss be damned. She sang the French love songs her father taught her and even wrote some songs of her own. It’s very rare that you see the spunky, sassy, yet shy Marvella walking around without her journal to write inspiration in and if she’s ever without out, just know it’s going to be a rough day for everyone.

trois — THEIR PERSONALITY

+ grateful, optimistic, insightful

- anger issues, shy, possessive

PORTRAYED BY TAY.

[nephi-almasri]

WHERE: random street WITH @marvelousmarvellakrofter​

Nephi couldn’t help but listen in, hoping any store, any place, any construction site or individual was listening to the heart-wrenching new song of Stromae, he was just hoping for any possibility to sing along, to hear it and to speak along with the warm voice. When he heard the music coming out of someone’s headphones, he murmured along, and then - without being able to stop himself - started to talk along, the lyrics sending shivers through his body every single time. 

“Justement, réfléchir, C’est bien l’problème avec toi”, he said along, then stopped himself, still hearing the la-la of the outro, and smiled at the person with the headphones. “Désole, it’s such a great song.”

[marvelousmarvellakrofter]

      She couldn’t stop listening to her new favorite song Stormae and kept placing it on repeat at every chance she could. As she strolled the streets, enjoying her day off, the song came across her songs again and she didn’t hesitate to turn her earbuds full blast and she shut her eyes for a moment, letting herself absorb the lyrics.        Ella almost jumped when a voice could be heard next to her and her eyes shot open before offering the handsome male before her a matching smile. “Ah, no need to apologize, monsieur,” she started off with, “ -- it’s such a raw song and the beat just really hits, you know?” Another smile crossed her lips before she stretched out her hand. “Je m’appelle Marvella, monsieur, but please -- call me Ella. “Enchanté de faire votre connaissance!”

[marvelousmarvellakrofter]

lalesencl·:

─── ∘❉∘ ───

Lale doesn’t get to frequent Le Comptoir as much as she’d like ; it’s filled with all sorts of antique armchairs, vintage posters and lamps. The magpie approach seems to work for this place, which is part bar, part restaurant, part greenhouse, part coffee bar, part thrift shop. Insiders and locals alike know it as a reliably hip spot for, well, a little bit of everything.

On the patio, it’s as if you’ve been transported to a Mediterranean village square. With it’s spacious atompshere and relaxing feel of having a drink in nature, it’s the perfect setup for the young woman who’s strums on a guitar before singing with a sweet-honeyed voice. It’s no surprise that the music has caught Lale’s attention. Standing off to one side, she watches the girl as she sings.

As the songs comes to a soft ending, Lale cheers loudly which is followed by the clapping of her hands. The brunette approaches the young woman with fascination gleaming in her good eye. 

Bending down slightly, the artists tosses ten euros into the guitar case. ❝ De rien c'est avec plaisir! You’re really good. ❞ Her smile gleams toward the young woman before giving a gentle shrug, ❝ Since you’ve asked, I wouldn’t mind a gin and tonic. You can keep the change. ─ Do you do this often? ❞ Lale asks, gesturing toward the instrument now with inquisitive interest in her voice.  

     She was quite grateful for the ten euros that the lovely lady before her tossed in to her guitar case. ‘Pretty and generous’, she thought to herself. At the compliment, Ella blushed. She dished compliments out like they were candy but when it came to receiving them -- well, she wasn’t the best at doing so. “Ah -- well -- I --” she offered up a smile of thanks instead of actually being able to utter the words out while she fumbled with her guitar and a blush graced her cheeks.       “Do what? Sing on the streets or get pretty girl drinks?” She quipped out before letting out a laugh. “Ah -- yes to both, technically. I sing when I’m done with my shift here and when I'm on my shift I get to buy and serve all of the beautiful humans of Paris. Merveilleuse, non?” 

     After carefully placing her guitar back in to its case, she rests it up against the building before offering her arm to the woman. “Well, shall we go get you a gin and tonic?”

[marvelousmarvellakrofter]

celinelaurent·:

Celine had been ready to enter Le Comptoir when she’d paused, noticing the girl stood out the front of the bar, strumming lightly on her guitar and singing softly in French. She stopped for a moment, vaguely recognising the song. It took her back to the days before her mother had grown quite so reliant on glasses of wine to make it through the day. She would slot a tape into their ancient stereo and her and Christophe would push all the furniture to the side of the living room so they could dance. Celine - barely tall enough to reach her brother’s hip - would toddle around after them, laughing with delight. 

Unlike her usual memories, this one simply made her smile. So she reached into her bag and fished out a two euro coin. It wasn’t the most generous offering in the world but she had come out with a strict three drink budget and she wasn’t about to blow it.

She looked up as the girl addressed her realising that, despite her choice of song, she wasn’t French at all but American, by the sounds of it. 

Another American in Paris, just what the world needs.

“A song or a drink? I thought the bar was inside, not out here?” Celine asked, raising an eyebrow, the English sounding heavy and foreign on her tongue. She understood and spoke English well - her previous grand ambitions had demanded it - but beyond a few customers at work, she rarely found herself needing to use it. It was clear, even to her ears, that the accent she had once trained herself to soften was quite obvious now.

     The woman before her was beautiful, that much Ella couldn’t deny no matter how she tried -- not that she would want to, though. A playful smile crossed her lips as she slung her guitar around her back, strap crossing over the front of the sweater she had on. “Whatever you’d like, mademoiselle. Anything for a lovely lady like yourself.” Ella couldn’t help herself, she was a flirt and when an attractive human comes along, she takes the opportunity to let them know they’re attractive. People building up people, right?       “Buvons de la bière!” The woman declared before carefully placing her guitar in its case. She decided she wanted a drink after all. “My treat if you’re up for it?” It came off as more of a question than a demand, for she didn’t want to push the woman into anything or instantly seem demanding. She’s just been working all day and something to relax seemed heavenly right now.   

[marvelousmarvellakrofter]

julienandre·:

     Since his return to Paris Julien had been occupied with the one immediate goal he had, and most of his time was spent digging into Sébastien’s final days. He’d visited his late twin brother’s apartment more than a few times, the frequency unfortunately wasn’t due to the plethora of information to sort through — it was just difficult. It was a year later and Julien still hadn’t fully come to grips with the loss, that hole and emptiness wasn’t getting gradually easier each day. The only thing that kept the emotional turmoil at bay was his determination to find out what had happened to Sébastien. He was on his way from his brother’s back to his place. This time he hadn’t broken down while amongst his things, yet as he strolled past the bar he had to stop and listen to the musician giving a little performance. Sébastien loved to stop and enjoy street performers.

     When the song was nearing it’s end he dropped some money into her guitar case and his hands stuffed back into his pockets. His eyes were a little distant and glassy. “Uh, no… I probably shouldn’t do either. That wasn’t me paying for anything, that was a tip for your performance.” It was odd to feel like a stranger in the city he grew up in, the world simply felt off now. Shifting his weight, he decided to entertain her a moment longer. “Can you play anything classical?”

     Her eyes connected with his for a moment and Ella felt this overwhelming urge to hug the male before her. He was an attractive male with such sad eyes. She could tell something was amiss and something was troubling him, but she didn’t want to question on it, nor would she actually try to hug the guy for that would probably be a little inappropriate. Instead, she offered him a soft smile as she looked up at him and gave him a nod. The least she felt she could do is share some music with him and she stood up from her seat.      She played around with a few cords for a moment at his question as she took only a step closer to him, humming softly to herself as she did so. “Would you like it to be French or English? I know a couple from but --” she paused before continuing with “-- you look like you could use a smile or two so I figured I’d let it be your choice.” 

[marvelousmarvellakrofter]

kolking​:

     “Have you got a piano you could pull out of there somewhere?” Kol was pointing at her guitar case and doing his absolute best put on his most charming smile. It was a beautiful song and she had such a lovely voice, plus he enjoyed the way she played. For a few moments in time the world didn’t feel like such an ugly awful place. “I’m pretty good on the keys,” he continued, wiggling his fingers, “I always wanted to learn guitar though.” In fact, Kol was fairly certain he’d had a guitar at one point in his life. It was difficult to remember exactly when, there were periods of time of the past that were foggy. Maybe Amanda had taken it when she’d packed up and moved back to Indiana to be with her family.

     “I’m not supposed to drink  so I guess that means you’re stuck playing me another song.” As he wracked his brain for some French song to request Kol dropped a little more money into her case. “Does it have to be French or do you know any blues? Or I’ll do just fine with you playing a favorite of yours.” This was much better than going home to an empty, quiet house — something that Kol often avoided for as long as he could.

     Ella thought back to the small keyboard she had stashed away in her apartment, tucked away in the corner for her to pluck on for inspiration. “I do at home, but unfortunately, not on me,” she gave him a smile. “If you can use those fingers on the keys, I’m sure you can strum a guitar and do many things with them. Of course -- I can always teach you someday.” An out of the blue offer, sure, but Ella enjoyed spreading music and sharing the joys in whatever way she could. And she couldn’t help herself with the innuendo. Paris really did have the most attractive people.      She rose her eyebrows at the indication of him not being able to drink and the question as to why lingered in the back of her throat but she didn’t ask, not wanting to pry and knowing that it really wasn’t any of her business. At the question she gave the gentleman another smile and a nod. “Ah, monsieur, a man after my own heart asking for the blues.” She let her fingers strum the first couple of cords to B.B. King’s ‘The Thrill is Gone’. “Do you know B.B. Kings? Will you sing with me?” 

[marvelousmarvellakrofter]

LOCATION: outside le comptoir bar WHEN: January 21, 2022 at 11PM WHO: OPEN ( @paristarters​) 

     Her eyes were shut lightly as she strummed at her guitar, the ending to Je te promets by Johnny Hallyday played amongst the few people who were roaming the streets.  “Je te promets le sel au baiser de ma bouche.Je te promets le miel à ma main qui te touche.Je te promets le ciel au-dessus de ta couche,des fleurs et des dentelles pour que tes nuits soient douces,” she sang softly as she finished out the song. This one was always one of her favorites and her and her dad would listen to it on repeat back home when they missed her mother. At the sound of money landing in her guitar case, she looked up at the person before her. >

     “Bonjour -- je vous remercie,” she thanked them before continuing in English, “-- any requests or are you ready for a drink? You did just pay for one, anyways.”

[lenareis-deactivated20231002]

OPEN STARTER FOR EVERYONE. ( @paristarters​ ) late evening/night outside of le comptoir bar

          Following a few hours inside the bar, first in her office tending to some necessary paperwork and emails then mingling for a short while with the patrons, the brunette found herself breathing in the chilled Parisian night air. The coat hugging her long and slender frame was pulled a little tighter to her figure, seeking more warmth than it likely had to offer. Ever since Lena’s last meeting with her father and his associates she’d been a bit more mindful of her surroundings. Everywhere she went there was this tingling sensation at the nape of her neck that crawled up — a feeling of being watched.

          Once Lena reassured herself that her phone was in her pocket her dark gaze roamed her surroundings, looking back to the courtyard then each way along the street. Sometimes she walked, often preferring that mode to get around, even in her heels, and other times she called for a driver. It was rare that she took her 1967 Ford Mustang Fastback out of the garage and tried to park anywhere near the bar. Tonight though, the brunette was wishing she’d suffered a little frustration. Somehow, Lena was in luck when someone stopped along the sidewalk near her. She checked the time quickly on her phone, letting it peek out from her pocket. “Care to walk with me?” A friendly smile pulled her painted lips back, it was a little random but she could take that judgement over being alone. “I promise a free drink at Le Comptoir.” The twinkle in her dark eyes revealed something playful. “Not tonight, but any other night.”

[marvelousmarvellakrofter]

     Marvella was a simple girl with a single goal in her mind -- to make it big as a solo artist in any way she could. If that meant strumming on her guitar for an hour after she was done with her shift to earn some extra money and recognition then so be it. It also helped her relax and be able to free her mind. Afterall, bartending was bartending and damn were the patrons being demanding tonight. She shifted her head from side to side, satisfied with the small ‘pop’ that eluded from it. Perhaps that was enough playing for tonight.       As she stood, she noticed a familiar figure coming towards her and she grinned as said woman stood on the well lit sidewalk outside of the bar she worked at. “Bonjour, mademoiselle,” she greeted.

    Her question brought another grin to the woman’s lips and she fell in step with her to her right. Her left ear was the one she didn’t have to use her hearing aid in and she never really wore it when she worked at the bar anyways. It was easier for her to concentrate on her job when there wasn’t so much noise. Plus, by now she was more used to focusing on lips than the actual people around her. Speaking of -- she shifted her focus back to Lena before giggling at her. “As much as I’d appreciate it, mademoiselle, I don’t think a free drink is the same price as your company,” she said, shooting Lena a harmless wink. 

[perrfectly]

Cafe Terrace at Night by Vincent Van Gogh