( alexa demie, 35 (500), marisol flores, cis woman, she/her ) Underneath the sparkling sky, did you see ALEXA DEMIE being tipped by the Cauldron? No, that's just MARISOL FLORES, who is the STYLIST from the NIGHT COURT. I heard that on most days they're QUICKWITTED and CHARMING but if you catch them on a dark night, they can be BLUNT and DRAMATIC. But if you really get to know them, you'll know that they vibe with THE CLICKING STEPS OF STILETTOS, UNFILTERED LAUGHTER & KEEPING GLITTERY PEPPER SPRAY IN YOUR BAG
BASICS
FULL NAME: Marisol Flores
AGE: 500
COURT: Night Court
GENDER: Cis Woman
PRONOUNS: She/Her
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual (as far as i'm aware)
TITLE: Stylist
CHARACTER INSPO: fran fine (the nanny), sofia bicicleta (dimension 20's the unsleeping city), maddy perez (euphoria)
FACECLAIM: Alexa Demie
born into a large family in the night court that all mostly worked as merchants, her mother being the head of trade, meant that marisol had always known the importance of having a tight knit community and also the value for working for what you had. she had always been drawn to pretty things,spotting all the jewelry and trinkets in the markets when needing to accompany her mom or aunts at work, and the loud charm and charisma she had even as a young fae brought her to cotillion shows that started from the night court all the way to all of prythian, and she was a fierce competitor, stealing hearts with her talents and beaming smiles. she loved the pageantry of it all and she was good at it. her big family was always there to praise and support her through it all, and she did it until she couldn't anymore, finally aging out of it, and suddenly she was expected to figure out what to do with her life, with herself outside of it.
it was difficult, trying to navigate what she wanted to do from here on, having tried her hand at the merchants tables, and though she was still just as good at talking up the customers and knew how to make a proper trade, she just knew there was more out there for her. one thing that mari knew for sure is that she loved the process of making herself pretty. the art of using and playing with makeup and putting together a look, it led her back to the cotillion world, now as a make up and costume stylist, and it all clicked back into place. her mother soon grew tired of her daughter trying to revert back to playing dress up instead of trying to go into the family business, or literally anything else deemed more "serious" and soon enough the arguments between the two left a strain between them that the other members of their family tried to tip toe their way through, never having seen them separated like this before. but it gave marisol something to prove now, and she kept with what she knew and felt was right for her, having pride and confidence in her work, and it eventually led her to opportunities that allowed her to style for more important events within the night's inner circle, and eventually the high family themselves, and she is more than settled, considering herself very lucky to be in her position and would not change it for the world. she now has her own place near the royal palace where she will have family over whenever, but she will not entertain when they try to talk her into speaking to her mother.
Luna was up to her ears in work. There were too many variables now and without her magic, it was almost impossible to track her spies throughout the starlight court.
Once Mari mentioned the sky her eyes turned up from the ground. She had been pacing back and forth too lost in her own interests to acknowledge anything outside.
"That is true, yes" Luna said with some hesitance. There had been more than a few times where Luna meant to return to her office and took the route most similar to the one she knew in the Night Court. "I prefer it with less light and having my powers" Luna said sternly. She was exhausted and disgruntled by her current circumstances. In this rare instant, Luna regretted her sternness "I apologize, Marisol. I did not mean to snap towards you"
mari's quick to shake her head and let out a soft hum, batting away the apology with her wine glass before taking another sip. the spymaster had nothing to apologize for, at least not in her eyes. things had been so stressful and complicated, and she was sure that was the over all consensus. that they were all back home, in their own courts, with their powers. "no, no, please. honestly, I'd be suspicious of you if you weren't fed up to some extent...all thrown here against our will with no access to our magic...it's frustrating...and you have important work to do in the middle of it all...all I do is just...make our high lady pretty." she giggles a bit, the humor subdued as she takes another sip. "...you wanna join me? or should I just leave you to your things?
"Highlights!?" Penélope screeched, sitting up a little and pulling away from Mari. "What do you mean highlights!? Mari, no." Her hand went up to run through her long black hair and pulled her ponytail back behind her. But then curls kind of peaked her interest. Maybe it could be nice. She was never one to be feminine, she didn't have a mother to look up to and in the Valkyrie training camps, everything was about practicality. She sometimes dressed nicely for celebrations and balls but it was mostly whatever she felt like, not giving it too much thought. "Okay fine. But just braids, alright?"
Once her glass was filled, she immediately took a big gulp and rolled her eyes at Marisol's teasing but with a small smile and still blushing. "Shut up." She said pushing her a little once she came close but finally pulled the tie from her hair and let it fall down like a black thick cascade over her shoulders and back. Penélope shook her head a little and it actually felt good to not have her hair tight up like that. She was used to the usual pain.
Why didn't the chisme surprise her one bit? The little she knew about men, Penélope hated. She made a disgusted face at the story. "Gosh men are gross. Won't touch one with a five foot pole." She wasn't really aware what that might entail about herself so she said it without thinking Mari would take it this or that way. "Good for her that she rat him out? Does she need me to punch him? I can. I could break his knee or something." It was always fun to scare little male fae.
at the woman's complete adamant response to highlights, mari's shoulders drop, pouting playfully at her and trying not to crack a small smile. okay, so maybe she added that bit in just for a reaction, sue her. "well ya can't blame a girl for tryin', can you? honestly, I feel like just adding some contrasting color to the pieces at the front and maybe in the back for a peek-a-boo affect might do you better anyway, if you ask me--" she's this close to touching the other woman's hair to emphasize her point but quickly puts them back, eyes lighting up at what penelope says next. "wait, really?" she's beaming, squealing a little and hugging the other without a second thought before trying to straighten herself up once pulling away again. "wait, okay, okay! yay! would you like just one braid or two? on the bright side if you go for the single...your hair is already up!"
mari's smirk only widens watching her friend's reaction, playfully shimmying once more as she gets lightly pushed back with a snort as she brings her own glass to her lips, letting out a low whistle as she watches the day fae's hair fall down to her shoulders. "wow, what a knock out! do a spin, do a spin!" she teases, as she starts to grab the elastics needed and placing a pillow on the couch to sit on behind her to give the stylist a better position.
"aren't they? just running around sticking it in wherever and acting like they're the victim after? and you know what? I would pay to watch you do it, too...luckily enough, though, she sounds like she's gonna be just fine. didn't need his money and happily called him out publicly called him out whenever he tried to go near her." she snorts in delight at the thought as she starts to part through the woman's hair with a rat tail comb. "so i'm assuming there's no one special back at home, then? considering your reactions?" the humor was clear in her voice, not meaning to pry, just genuine curiosity, but was also ready to change the topic if needs be...mari just couldn't help herself sometimes when it came to subjects like this.
The market was still half-destroyed with cracked stone, overturned crates, the occasional abandoned stall with its canvas roof torn and flapping in the breeze. The air smelled like dust and cold stone and the faint hint of smoke still drifting from the fissure in the distance. It was too quiet for a market, even a ruined one. Most vendors seemingly fled after the ground split. The ones who remained were huddled in doorways, watching them pass with wary eyes. He was used to that.
"Virg?" He repeated the syllable like he was testing a blade's edge, flat and neutral. The word felt strange in his mouth, like she'd taken something from him without asking. He didn't know if he minded. "It's just Virgil. That's all there is." She didn't seem to care. She was already weaving between stalls, holding up fabric. He watched her for a moment, trying to catch up. She moved like she knew exactly where she was going, even when she kept stopping every few feet to inspect a bolt of fabric or thread.
"Leather works," he said, latching onto the practical question because practical questions were safe. He reached out and touched the edge of a stall as he passed. Old habit, checking for stability. The wood was cold and rough under his fingers, still solid despite the cracks. "It's durable. It holds. I don't need style or comfort. I just need it to not tear when I'm..." He stopped, shrugged. The motion was stiff, his wings shifting with it. "When I'm doing my job. Whatever fabric does that, that's what I want."
"Black," he said finally, because she was still waiting and he had to say something. "Black is practical. Hides dirt, doesn't show blood. If you want to add something else, I won't stop you. You seem like the type who does what she wants anyway."
mari hesitates just a bit as she takes in the scene in front of them, all that had been left behind from the earth splitting incident and it left a small ache in her chest, reminding her of simpler times back in the night court (especially since starlight almost looked too similar...just more stars in the sky), her big extended family making a day of big vendor events as they all were merchants themselves. as she weaves her way through each spot the woman also silently fixes things up a bit to the best of her abilities, straightening a display, or folding things back into place when deciding to set it back down. everything had been practically ruined but these people's livelihood still meant something, and she wished to help give them a little bit of that dignity back, as good, hardworking people, even if it might have come off as silly or useless. when the night fae notices people warily standing aside from a stall she wanted to grab something from, she silently sets down payment just on the stall itself, if they weren't comfortable getting close, placing something over it so it didn't fly away. she should check on her family. even if she and her mother weren't on speaking terms as of late.
she composes herself back again once mari goes back to addressing her new companion, who somehow agreed to follow her, even with the state of things, and she can't keep from smiling playfully at his gruff answer; he was very fun to rile up, she was coming to learn. she tsks, as if disappointed, and turns back to him from over her shoulder once more. "mm. so it's safe to assume that 'virgy' is also off the table?" she lets out a soft huff. "fine, 'just virgil', it is, then."
"well, of course." she lightly rolls her eyes at this with a soft flick of her hand, as if it was obvious and he should have known her better than that, as if this wasn't just their first meeting. "i'm not going for any cheap fabric, here, ever. I clothe and style the high lady of my court, whoddaya take me for?" mari's back to teasing, playfully shaking her head up at him. "I suppose preferences are always just...nice to be aware of. and if that's leather for you, I can work with that...might just need a stool when we get to your measurements, though. you're like this...giant...brooding, dark...mountain. but! that does work for some ladies, so hey!...or men! I don't know what you're into."
marisol tilts her head at that, pondering. "hides blood, huh? I didn't think being a personal guard dog would be so exciting, I have so many questions now! and I also know just the thing to remove both dirt and blood from clothing, so i'm jotting that down for later by saying it out loud, because I have nothin' on me for that right now. but aww. I do do what I want, yes. that's so sweet of you to notice, already! I might just keep you if this project doesn't end up boring me." she's grinning again, trying to see how much she could get away with in terms of teasing.
seren beams at mari’s squeal, laughing at the way she spills a little as she carries things to the table. “i was required to learn history and literature and was allowed my hobbies only if no one saw. so i got used to studying.” she shrugs. it had been her introduction to books, and she’d hated some of it, but she’d learned a lot, at least. “i would have preferred fun drinks alongside some of it all.” she muses, setting the rest of her armful of things down, taking a sip from one of the cocktails. she grins as mari lifts her glass, lifting her own and clinking it against her friend’s. “even if we don’t find anything useful, we’ll at least have fun!” seren giggles, nodding. “it’s good to always be prepared with them, i always think.”
she hums lightly, musingly with a smile as she raises her glass once more. "to being adults now then, and getting to do things however we want." she takes a moment to look through a bit of the armful the other had brought with her. " oh, I know i'm about to have so much fun with all of the options we have here! I might just have to ask you to provide for every get together I have from here on out...and obviously you'd get an invite too, of course! also! i've been dying to know, how did hybern as a whole keep this court a secret for so long? I personally don't know if I could hold out on something as juicy as this? and it's gorgeous, too boot! it almost reminds me of home back at night except with a whole lot more stars...i give you your rounds of applause. and now, i wonder if I should make this choice by closing my eyes and pointing and that's where we start?"
"Mysterious is a generous interpretation. It's almost romantic. Should I be flattered?" Maybe he should have been. Most people would have said something along the lines of 'unsettling' or 'vaguely threatening.' She was already moving, stilettos clicking against the cobblestone, and Virgil fell into step behind her. She was surprisingly fast for someone half his height. He'd expected her to wobble on those stones, but she was weaving through broken stalls like she'd done it a hundred times. He had to shorten his stride to keep from overtaking her.
"No, I wasn't..." He stopped, then started again. "I was just standing here before. Not doing anything important. So." He shrugged, the motion stiff and awkward. "This is fine." She launched into questions about fabric and flow and flexibility, and he listened, processing. She talked fast, thought fast. He was still two sentences behind, trying to catch up. She threw another smirk at him, and he looked away. The back of his neck felt warm. He wasn't sure why it was doing that, didn't want to examine it.
"Flexible," he echoed, latching onto her question. Fabric was easier than whatever else was happening. Fabric was practical and didn't make the back of his neck feel warm. "Wings aren't static. They shift even when they're folded. If the shirt doesn't shift with them, it pulls at the seams," He touched his left shoulder, tracing the line where the leather reinforcement had worn thin. "I've tried reinforcing this one, but the stitching never holds."
Virgil didn't know much about fabric, but he knew competence when he saw it. The way she assessed each bolt with a quick eye. The way she dismissed things without hesitation. The way she already seemed to know what she was looking for, even if he didn't.
at his reply an amused smile slowly grows on the night fae's lips as she tilts her head to the side, not expecting him to tease back but it was a fun little surprise. "you can take it however you feel. I personally would love just to be marisol but I may just have to pay my dues first, which I think would make it feel lots more satisfying once I get there. but hey, branding genius, on your part." this was where she would lightly tap on his shoulder if she could actually reach it, oh well.
she's weaving through, trying to see what to keep holding onto as options through process of elimination as she speaks to him through over her shoulder. "good! because ya know what, virgil? can I call ya virg? i've decided just now that what we're doing now is very important. because I have been itching to get my hands on some sort of project to keep me occupied and sane from...lets call it current events?" she lifts up a piece with a questioning look, waiting for a yes or no, unaware of what she might have just stirred. in him.
she nods along as she listens to him, tongue sticking out just a bit as she picked out a few more pieces before glancing toward the stitching he was tracing over in his shoulder. "oh yeah, no, regardless of what I'm picking up today I'm fixing that whole top of yours later. you can figure out what type of favor you owe me for it later, or don't. I don't really care, either way it's gonna bug me if I don't do that myself. it does look like that part is due for a little tlc, though, do you like the leather? does it work? we can always figure that out. and while we're at it, are there any preferences in color or other types of material as well? comfort and style can coexist, despite popular belief! whodda thought, huh? i of course, will always choose the latter," she gestures to herself, as if it's obvious. "but do as I say not as I do."
"hey malvina?" mari speaks up from where the pair had been hanging out together in silence, each working on their own tasks and having to bite her tongue to keep from wanting to call her "malvy", knowing how the woman isn't a fan of nicknames, and well...marisol practically used them all the time. she had felt a little silly, knowing the other for awhile now and never thinking to ask the questions until now, after having met the guard for dawn. "if there were any top complaints that you have about shirts that you either have to alter to work with your wings or even the tops made for your wings what would they be?"
Virgil stood there for another moment, watching her watch him. Marisol Flores. Personal stylist to the Night Court. She'd given him her full name like it was a challenge, like she expected him to be impressed or intimidated or something in between. He wasn't sure which. He wasn't sure about a lot of things with her. She was still holding her hand out. Small, slender, compared to his own scarred and calloused hands. Perhaps big enough to wrap around hers and have plenty left over. The contrast felt absurd. He hesitated a beat too long before reaching out and taking her hand. His grip was too careful, the grip of someone who'd learned how much pressure it took to break bone.
"Virgil," he said. "Guard of Dawn's High Lady. And by the way, I was walking. Exploring. Looking at the stalls. Then you walked into me and called me a wall. Now you're inspecting my stitching." He released her hand, perhaps a little too quickly. He'd never been good at conversations. He knew that. He'd been told one too many times. His voice was too flat, his words too blunt, his timing always slightly off. He'd learned to compensate by saying less and letting the silence do the work. But she didn't seem to mind the silence. She just stood there, holding her fabric, waiting for him to catch up.
"Fine," he said, the word coming out flatter than he meant to. "If you're so insistent on it, then lead the way. I'll follow. And if I walk into you, we'll be even."
she stands there, hand extended, head tilted expectantly, almost wondering if she should just drop it and not give it a second thought but she refused to back down first, finding it a little funny to watch his reactions to her. the handshake itself felt too gentle, and the woman only gently tilts her head at this as she eyes his hand, not saying anything out loud, and she tries not to stifle out a laugh once he quickly snatches his hand back. "...just virgil, huh? how mysterious." dawn was admittedly not the court she would have guessed for him herself but a personal guard dog definitely fit the bill. "alright. and now we're both standing here having a chat...now that we're both done stating the obvious..."
she hides the triumphant smile as he gives in, moving ahead so he couldn't see, eyes down to watch her steps in the stilettos, making do in the cobblestone street but fairing just fine as she does so. "yeah? you sure there wasn't any more standing and exploring that you wanted to do? i'm not keeping you?" she throws a shit eating smirk over her shoulder before picking up the pace a bit. "now. since introductions are out of the way, what would you say are top concerns for tops that need to be altered for wings like yours? you mentioned the wings need space, obviously. so something that flows or at least within that area would be better? maybe something more flexible?" she's looking through stalls as she speaks, stopping to eye any fabrics she happens to spot along the way. a new project like this could be a fun challenge, and she always accepted a challenge.
"does it also throw you off?" mari was in a more contemplative state tonight, just a bit of alcohol already in her system as she laid near the living quarters of their nigh section in stellaria, knowing she was near those in her court, who she knew she could trust. she had been throwing herself into small clothing projects to keep herself occupied, to keep herself from thinking too deeply about prythian's dilemmas that seemed to keep growing with no real answers found just yet. "how this place looks so much like night...like home...just a lot more...light? almost puts you in a false sense of security doesn't it?"
THE SITUATION WAS DIRE. The loss of magic was just the tip of the iceberg of problems that had awaited with morning's first light. But, Yiren had decided not to think about it tonight - not to think of her lack of shadows, the lack of soothing darkness that enveloped her, walked alongside. No, she would not think about it now. Tomorrow. There will be a whole day ahead to ponder and panic about it.
perhaps even longer.
Asking Marisol to join her for a nightcap or few was a logical turn of illogical events. She'd already checked up on the majority of her court, her siblings and the inner circle that had been in a bit of disarray with their powers going poof! At least the magic did not seem to have it out for her and the Night court personally - as far as she could tell, that is.
who knows what the culprits planned next.
Taking out an assortment of drinks and a few salty snacks she smuggled from the kitchens ( even if the Starlight staff had been more than happy to provide ), Yiren beamed as the knock on the door announced Marisol's arrival.
"I wasn't sure what does one usually do for a girl's night, so I took a very questionable amount of alcohol and some snacks. Please, come in."
"and I will happily take them all. I will never discriminate with alcohol. even more so with snacks." she grins, showing her own spoils that consisted of an assortment tray from one of the little bakeries of starlight with a sort of wine she wasn't really all that sure of, it was pink and she decided that was enough to fit the mood of the night, along with a few silks and other fabrics to get a feel for the high fae's thoughts on a possible new garment. marisol needed this. she was grateful to the high lady for giving her the opportunity to do what she loved for her, and she adored that they had grown a friendship in the process as well. she's not sure if she would be able to stay if she didn't like her employer all that much, and luckily enough, that wasn't the case here.
once she sets all the things down, she turns back to yiren, and extends her arms out for a hug, scurrying her way forward to meet her half way, the only giveaway of her trading her usual stilettos for fuzzy slippers being the lack of clicking and difference of height, as she usually was able to walk just fine in them no matter what. and once they pull back from their hug, she steps back to look the other woman over, grabbing both her hands in her own. "now, we've got all night, but how are we feeling? or is this just one of those "I don't wanna think about it" sort of nights? because i'm also great at that. and! I also brought some fabrics with me to get your thoughts on a possible new sash or whatever else your heart desires as a little pick me up?"
Virgil turned, and for a moment he just looked at her. Small, his mind supplied. Not a threat. Probably. She was scowling up at him with her hands on her hips like she was ready to argue with a wall, and he was the wall in question. Her head was tilted so far back to meet his eyes that she was practically perpendicular to the ground. He wondered if her neck hurt. He didn't ask.
Intimidating face. He heard that a lot. He never knew what to do with it. Was he supposed to apologize? Change his face? He didn't know how to change his face. He was aware of the absence at his shoulders, the stillness where shadows should have been, coiling and watchful as always. They'd been silenced. He felt naked without them. Exposed, like a blade with no hilt.
"I'm not trying to be in the way," his voice came out flatter than he intended. Then again, it always did. "I was standing still. You walked into me." A pause. Was that rude? Probably. Clarify. "But I should have moved. You're small. Easy to miss." He didn't mean it as an insult. He wasn't sure if she'd take it as one. He was still adjusting to the silence in his own head.
"...What?" He hadn't meant to say that. It slipped out, flat and bewildered. "Ah... you're serious. About the tops." He paused, processing. "We alter them. The wings need space. Most clothing is not made with us in mind, so I sew my own. Why does that matter to you?"
"well is there a reason you're just standing her stopping traffic?" the foot traffic around them admitedly wasn't all that bad in the moment but mari had been stopped in the middle of a task, so she was going to see this through, plus with the size of his wings even if she had just tried to walk around him it would still be just a bit too tight for comfort...was he able to fold them in? could he have that control over them or did they just do what they wanted? these were all questions that would have been answered had she thought about it more when with malvina...that was a little embarrassing, but she was sometimes in her own little world, hence her zeroing in on his shirt without a second thought. "well, I can understand someone as small and elegant as myself being missed with your back turned but in any other case, hon, no one is missing me, alright?"
as he questions her so bluntly the fae isn't even batting an eye as she eyes his top, already moving around him to inspect the handy work he's mentioned, brow furrowed just a bit and a head tilted a bit to the side. "you've had to do this multiple times." she states it like a fact, like it's obvious. "and sure it gets the job done for the time being but I can see it ready to break off again...were you doing it blindfolded or in a rush?" too much?
she only looks up from the inspection at his last question, plastering on a sugar sweet and very put on smile as she daintily offers a hand out to him, her somewhat more professional mode now on. "marisol flores. personal stylist to the high lady of the night court. it's your pleasure." she holds onto the fabric in her arms a little tighter as a whole new project comes to mind. "...now, I would say walk with me but..." she expectantly looks back at him, still blocking the way.
marisol had decided to go through the markets of starlight to give herself something to do as a distraction from the new reality that she no longer could use her powers, no one here could. and what's more, it seemed as though a whole new threat had now been revealed...wherever they might have been. she was searching the market for some new material she could work with for the high lady, thinking that if maybe she curated something new like a dress or sash it would keep her busy enough. she admittedly had been looking around her, not fully ahead until someone stood directly in front of her stopped the much smaller woman in her tracks as she looked up to see a monstrously big and toned back with huge bat like wings standing in the middle of the path seemingly without a care in the world. there was of course an Illyrian in mari's own night court, and she would even go as far as to say they were at least casual friends, so the wings themselves weren't really a surprise...more so the body they were attached to. were those muscles for real? eh, that shouldn't matter right now, he was still in her way.
"excuse me! you're blocking the way. and the sun." her hands are on her hips as she calls up to him practically needing to look up at the sky in attempt to reach his ears, even in heels, and she only takes a step back once he turns to face her. his vibe was a lot gloomier and darker than expected. "...okay, very intimidating face, not a bad one by any means, just kind of intense, if you ask me. i'm just trying to walk, here and you're like this...unmoving wall....also question I always had for you winged fae, might as well, while I have you, do you guys like...d.i.y. your own tops?"
now that she’s steadier, training is necessary, and since @stylistofthedark wanted to be more useful to her court, flora had offered to help her with training in a way where she would still be able to dress however she wants. because florencia had at one point decided that heels were going to be necessary at times, if she was sent somewhere that involved pretending to be something else. so she’d learned to fight in them. to do whatever she needed to in them. she just slipped covers on to keep them quiet so she could sneak around. and it helped that she could use them as extra weapons if she had to. in the time she’d spent looking around the court, she’d found training grounds, and so when the topic of needing to do something useful came up, flora invited mari to train with her. because she knows she can help her with learning without having to sacrifice her wardrobe.
“i do have to say that i hope you won’t be too upset if today’s outfit does get dirty. but the goal is no one getting a hit in.” she grins.
after things becoming as serious as they had gotten, a fear that marisol had was not being able to do much in her position to help when needed, especially when she had such a close position and friendship to the high lady of her court. she didn't want to just be standing there looking pretty (and she would) when more chaos struck down on them all. maybe at least some sort of self defense could be good to learn. and when she had heard the other could show her a few things, without needing to sacrifice her signature heels she all but jumped at the chance, so here she now was, dressed down in what she felt to be appropriate (though it was still pretty dressy by any other standards) and nodding along to the other as if she had just been enlisted to an army of some sort, wanting to make sure that florencia knew she was taking this seriously
. "oh, that's not gonna be a problem today, obviously, I mean." she does a little twirl to prove her point before perking up and lifting up one of her shoes for the woman to see. "and I brought the heels, too, see? now, at what point in training could I learn how to throw them like weapon? I feel like that could be fun!"
Alcohol always made things a little smoother and Penélope needed that right now. The one thing she was certain of at the moment was that she was put to guard her High Lady whenever she was left on her own which was probably going to be most nights, while during the day, the new commander was going to have her occupied. The Vanderbilt, even though split apart for almost a century, suddenly came together after this in spite of some tension in the inner circle but it was in good time and it let Penélope breath a bit easier that there were more people protecting Talia.
"What do you want with my hair?" Penélope asked confused, looking at her long black waves that her tightly up in a pony tail at the moment, over her shoulder. She was sat up roughly on an arm chair, always feeling too big for this kind of places, fearing the chair might fall under her. "Stop that..." The Valkyrie grunted and rolled her eyes but didn't mean anything by it. Marisol was beautiful, obviously and her batting her long eyelashes at Penélope, well, she was weak and blushed. "Chisme. Siempre. But I will take a full glass of whatever you're serving me. Necesito."
"oh you have no idea, do you? hair like yours is so thick and gorgeous and you either have it up in a simple pony or just falling down your shoulders...if I got to get my hands in there we could add a little body, let those waves breath a little...layering...highlights!...but for tonight at least just let me braid them? the curls you'll get tomorrow if you sleep with them will practically speak for themselves! and! if not, we can say we tried and i'll leave it alone...for now anyway." she was joking with that last bit, mostly." seeing the slight blush that found her friend's cheeks as she teased marisol couldn't help herself as she coos softly, but playful. "ooo, am I convincing you, maybe? now I know what the big guns are." she grins at the other's acceptance, excitedly sitting up as she starts to pour over the drink for the other "Eso es. so, el chisme. I heard from one of the servants from night that one of them is pregnant and the baby daddy payed her not to come up and rat him out for it because this wouldn't be the first kid he's had with another woman. he's not even partnered up, apparently, just sticking it in there for whoever will let 'em and then running from the consequences! isn't that just like a man?"
