firecracker

Portia Capello. 5' 2". 20. Heiress

[transgressionhq]

      “I could get behind some food…”

       “What were you thinking? Burgers?”

[portiacapello]

      “You read my mind.”

      “Let’s do this thing.”

[n-haught]

I got this.

me right before doing something that I clearly do not got  (via yeuni)

[daphneofedareviel-blog]

“Who am I to turn down free food?”

[portiacapello]

     “I like the way you think. So you’re in?”

[portiacapello]

     “I need to be fed right. now. I am so hungry.”

     “My treat.”

[shxcktop-blog]

She seemed like a nice enough women, though not one that Oberon had ever seen at the bar before. If people gave off energies, and Oberon believed that they did, then hers couldn’t be more opposing to those sitting around her. With glasses and smiles, the men and women edging her in at the counter were practically another species, though not one that Oberon considered himself as. “You’re right.” He said, slinging the towel back on his shoulder. “I probably would’ve given you a trophy. It’s been too long since he’s been hit- he’s overdue.”

Of course he didn’t mind making her something new. and he told her as much? “Do you have a preference?” But even as he was asking his hands were at bottle necks, pouring, mixing and shaking one of his favorite drinks- a little potion he’d concocted for the nights he wanted to forget, and this women looked like the last thing she wanted to do was remember. “Here.” He slid the purple drink across the counter. “Try this on for size.”

[portiacapello]

     “In that case, bring him back out here.” Portia’s grin turned genuine in a blink of an eye and then it was gone, chased away with a sigh. She held her tongue, not about tell him that her preferences for alcohol ranged from one of a kind fine wine to the backyard attempts at moonshine. When he slid the drink towards her, she lifted it to her lips and without much preamble, she took a gulp. It was perfect. She needed five more of them.

      “What do you call this?”

[shxcktop-blog]

There was an unprecedented comfort about always being in your own home. It allowed Oberon the freedom to move about his customers, shaking hands and bumping knuckles, or taking a turn shooting pool while Skids manned the bar. The sounds of clinking glasses and bottles being opened was music to his ears, until another unwelcome sound joined the cacophony of sounds at the Skull.

Skids. He was a champion skulltender, but a pain in the ass as far as Oberon was concerned. The men in the bar loved him, always asking for him personally when they came in during the day. But he’d never been able to keep himslef from the ladies, and it was becoming more of a problem the longer he worked there. Oberon found himself moving behind the counter before he knew it, listening to the boy’s usual drivel “So what’s your sign? Aries? I mean I hope so cause I’d like to Ram you all ni- argh!”

Oberon had taken the dishrag perpetually sitting on his shoulder and used it as a whip, aiming it towards the back of Skid’s head and hitting it with a satisfying Smack! “Dammit Skids! Shut up and go do the dishes in the back.” Watching the boy slink to the back room Oberon leaned his elbow against the bar. “Sorry about that- great mixer but a complete jackass.”

[portiacapello]

     The night was young and Portia felt as though she would have been better off with her own personal bottle and a bench out in the cold than the bar she’d somehow managed to stumble in to. The spitfire was the type of heiress known for fighting around the streets, but no tabloid had caught her in the act...yet. A blessing for the reputation of her business and her ailing father. A father who had, mere hours ago, complained about how she needed to find a man before he passed. Time had ticked by and the thoughts of marriage amongst all the stresses that had suddenly been placed on her still swarmed about her head like buzzards. Her next best step was to get out of the house, which had landed her in some bar she had never been to before.

       Portia held her misery between her teeth and washed it down with a shot, given to her by the bartender with a devil-may-care swagger. He seemed like he knew exactly where he belonged, like all his ducks were in line and counted for. She could hate him for it. 

     He mistook her staring for interest and immediately, Portia let her gaze fall away, staring down at her phone which had died with no hope of recovery without her trusty charger at her side. The damage was done, though, and the bartender approached her with a sharp gaze and an even sharper tongue.  “So what’s your sign?” She felt her fingers curl into a fist and she was ready as she moved slightly out of her seat to reach across the bar, the rest of words falling into a crude order. Then she stopped before she had even lifted a hand, placated by the whip of a towel aimed at the back of the bartender’s head. Skids. She had almost  fought a bartender named Skids. The fates were having a laughing fit right about now. 

     She slumped back into her seat, the hope of a fight dashed as Skids moved to the back, shooting a wink at her before disappearing. “If you knew what I was about to do to your bartender, you probably wouldn’t  feel like apologizing to me.” Her gaze drifted from the door to the man leaning against the bar, a ghost of a smirk curling her mouth. “Do you mind making me another drink? Something stronger than that shot?”

[seasinking-blog]

    “Yeah, I don’t even think my sisters want the title. He has to pass it down to someone, and I’d rather it be me than one of my other relatives, to be honest. I pray that happens. I personally want to work with younger people because middle-aged men tend to be stubborn and full of themselves.”

[portiacapello]

     “I bet we could maneuver it around so it ends up like that.”

     “How sneaky do you think we’ll have to be to pull that off?”

[seasinking-blog]

     "But then I’d have to look for a new assistant, or worse, I have to tell someone to hire them for me,“ she let out a huff and picked up the drink Portia had poured for her, taking a sip before continuing. ”Father dearest makes me, he thinks it’ll help prepare me for what’s to come in six years.“

[portiacapello]

     Portia raised her brows, a grin taking hold of her as she leaned back with her glass. “Sounds like he really wants you to take over. You never know, though, maybe in six years time all the old business partners will be replaced by new exciting partners.”

[puckgoode]

“Well if it’s the smell thats bothering you,” He quickly stubbed out his joint, he wasn’t raised to be rude after all. “Don’t want you to have to waste you spray.”

[portiacapello]

      “Hm.”

      “The consideration is a nice change.”

[lvcette-deactivated20160810]

“Oh, of course he is,” Mina sighed, rolling her eyes as she felt a particularly masculine presence begin to gravitate toward her shoulder. This was nothing new, which was why it was dreadfully old. “Alright, give me a summary before he arrives. Old? Young? Attractive? Desperate? What am I working with?”

[portiacapello]

     “Young, easy on the eyes, tall...” Portia’s gaze cut back to the blonde’s, a wicked glint in her emerald eyes as a grin curled her lips upwards. “Arrogant.” She raised her wine glass to her lips and held it there to mask the amusement as the man finally approached their table.

[puckgoode]

“Don’t worry, it’s legal.”

[portiacapello]

     ”Right. I’m more concerned about the scent of it.” Portia closed the door behind herself.

     “I think I’ve got spray...” She rooted around in her purse for the perfume she kept on her in case of emergencies.

[lvcette-deactivated20160810]

“Of course I’m still listening. I’m not an idiot. I can listen and read at the same time; it’s called multitasking.” 

[portiacapello]

      “Well, the gentleman is on his way over looking like he’s about to ask if you’d like a drink...” Portia’s gaze followed past the blonde’s head, awaiting the inescapable arrival of the man who had been staring at the woman for the past few minutes.

[seasinking-blog]

    “My… assistant just accused me of making everything Irish because I’ve had three glasses of wine today in one sitting. I mean, can you blame me? I had to sit through an hour meeting with my father’s business partners and well, you’re going to have to be a little buzzed to deal with those guys.”

[portiacapello]

      “Fire ‘im and hire someone who gets it. You’re preaching to the choir.” Portia poured herself and her friend a drink. “Still don’t get why you subject yourself to those meetings.”

[portiacapello]

❖

Send me a ❖ and my muse will kiss yours

      “You’re the prettiest flower of the bunch, m’love.”

[portiacapello]

chloe–lear:

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught her name.”

“I think it was something along the lines of Rita.”

“Mina, mabe? I don’t know. Chocolate strawberry?” Portia offered the sweet up the other girl.

[portiacapello]

pucgoode:

“You’re not much of a talker are you?”

“Quite the contrary, love.”

[portiacapello]

allcgra:

“Nothing I can think of. I guess I was too busy trying to juggle empty bottles of wine – I failed at it, by the way.”

     “Are you proud of yourself, at least? You’ve got half of Verona recovering from severe hang overs.”