"So what can the blind do for the card master?"
"Well that’s a question with far too many answers don’t you think, darlin’?" Fate’s brows rose as he approached the woman with a slow walk, the click of his boots echoing against the cold surface of the floor.
"Even if I answered, my chances of satisfyin’ what you came here for are pretty slim. Let me take a rain check on that and ask you this. What can you do for me?"
To hear retort so boldly and sternly was enlightening. Her features twisted as she growled her response, setting her foot down as someone who was strong, and ultimately wouldn’t be taken advantage of. All of this wasn’t new to Fate, especially not from someone like this young lass. Beneath her milky white skin was a person who was well aware of her surroundings, regardless of the limitations that were cast upon her physically.
To put lightly he was impressed that she approached him. She had brains and a body - a combination that was rare among women outside of the league at this day and age.
"Settle down now sweetheart, I reckon you think I don’t respect you, or the game we’re playin’ here." Fate kept their distance consistent, walking forward as the woman back pedaled a few paces.
"I’m not chalkin’ this up as a victory, far from it. This game we’re playin is a long one, one that I want us both to enjoy, regardless of who’s the victor - I suppose we may end up both winnin’ if we play our cards right, now that would be somethin’:
Though the woman was blind, his mannerisms surely could be felt. His tone had lowered and softened - showing sincerity and grace, and his slow descent to her height as he playfully laid the blade of his palm atop her hand was surely noticeable from moments before. He tilted his head, his long dirty brown hair swaying in the evening wind, sticking to bits of the young beauty’s gown.
"But now that we up and winded’ ourselves already, perhaps I can get a name from such a charming beauty."
Her head tilted slightly if only to accentuate the arch of her left brow at his words, her body instinctually tensing at the touch and the shock of hair that was not her own upon her skin. She she mentally stilled herself, forcing her breath to stay steady, her nerves to calm. “Rosewood, Miss. Rosewood.” She turns in step, both to subtly dislodge the touch, but to face him as well, hands once again finding their way to the small of her back. She hated herself for these personal rituals, they had really little to do with the person at hand, but her own mental sensibility. Steps she had to take to fill...comfortable but to also keep those around near by, regardless if they were really worthy or otherwise. Lucky her, he smelled nice, and his voice had a lilt to it that made her bubble for more. Even so, she still hated how she both wanted the contact yet rejected it all the same until times were right, when ever that was. “I think gypsy is the name I'll call you, if you don't mind.” The impish grin as she started to walk away told she would call him so regardless of how he viewed it, “rumor has it you dance...”
