IP: 24.18.171.195
Posted on May 25, 2010 at 10:09:45 PM by Charlotte Tweet
 “You’re the one that made me trip.” Charlotte suddenly says in an uncreative kind of way when she sees Kopa standing beside Jensen. It’s true, if she didn’t see the lion she wouldn’t have tripped – her eyes would have been on the rather uneven rug underneath her feet. “Damn these heels.” She was never a very materialistic person anyways. She unbuckles them while Jensen fumbles through his bag and tosses them to the side. When you live in a caravan that does not stay in one place for too long to even get yourself an address – you tend to let go of those simple pleasures in life like sofas and tables and wall clocks. Then again, Charlotte never cared much for them or dreamt of having them. In a way, she’s still right at home despite all that has happened in the past few hours. “Oh.” She says, suddenly realizing how rude her statement must have sounded. Does she care? Not really. It’s the truth. Kopa could have been walking on the ceiling and she would have looked up and saw him and tripped still. He could have been around the corner and she would have tripped still, and why? Because it’s his fault, that’s why. “I’m sorry I just meant, I saw you there.” She says in that ‘this-is-not-really-an-apology-but-an-explanation-to-an-explanation’ kind of tone, hand caught mid air as Jensen suddenly presents a bandaid. “Er…thanks.” Well, at least they have bandaids. She refuses to hope there’s a local seven-eleven somewhere around here that sells her Djarum Blacks. The thought, however, does cross her mind. For a moment those snowstorm gray eyes cloud over when she thinks about it. It’s gone however, she’s blinking and moving again trying to reorganize her thoughts on what’s wrong here. “I’m…Charlotte Tweet. I guess you’ve never seen me before – no one here has. It’s odd not being recognized but it’s kind of good at the same time – at least it’s a direct indication that I’m not where I should be. Shelley’s going to be so pissed.” She mutters sootily while trying her best to cover as much of the gash as she can. “I’m glad none of my birds got hurt.” One inch to the left would have severed the head off of Ollie, her favorite bird that hung around the inside of her right knee. The memory is good enough to keep it alive, she thinks, then smiles, then stands on two bare feet now. “Thank you, Jensen.” She says before brushing a long stripe of silver off her shoulder. Her hair disappears in a wild flurry behind her slender (too-slender) form and she smiles at them. It’s one of those professional smiles, waxed and perfected, she’s not hiding anything at all but neither is she telling anything with it either, it’s what you do when you don’t know what else to do so you just do it – why? Because you have lips, that’s why. Use them. All the time. Always. It’s not a philosophy of Charlotte’s, not at all. In fact she is the last person who would tell you that kind of bullshit. Anyway, “Kopa do you speak too?” She hears herself saying and suddenly rethinks her level of sanity. “Sorry, that sounds weird. Itzal…the wolf over there?” She points behind her shoulder without looking because Charlotte was just over talking to Adonis. At first the woman doesn’t know how to address that situation anymore than she already has so she shrugs and then sighs and then steps closer to Kopa. Carefully she kneels down on her good knee and reaches for the silky white mane without thinking twice about what a massive lion might do to a human hand that is just randomly coming at him. “Anyway Itzal talked to me – I just thought Kopa might too? It wouldn’t surprise me – not that I’ve been around many talking animals from where I come from but…well, working for a freakshow kind of…dulls the whole “Oh-My-God!” thing for me.” Her fingers curl into the silky, unable-to-be-described-with-words, mane. Her smile returns, a real one, and she hums in delight. “That’s the kind of feeling that could make you forget about everything bad that ever happened to you. I bet you get hugged a lot Kopa.” Charlotte Tweet So we did make love. Is that what you're calling it? …this is probably just another one of those cry-for-help things. |
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