Chamomile Greensmith : Open starter at the Masquerade 3/4
She was consumed by watching others, awareness of herself and her body in space severely limited. With a sudden jolt she finds herself crashing into a waiter, or the waiter crashing into her she isn’t sure. But she stumbles, tries to catch herself or the glasses that are falling and the glass shatters against her hand, slicing through the skin of her palm like paper.
Blood immediately wells up in the wounds, dripping down her wrist, threatening to spill onto the floor and she bites out a curse, looking around for anything to staunch the blood before she attracts too much attention. Eyes darting side to side she tried to find an exit, unsure if her head is spinning from the blood or the alcohol when she feels the unmistakable presence of someone standing over her.
















