|
|
Post by Bella Uccella on Aug 2, 2009 12:04:29 GMT -5
March 7th, 1960.
Time: 0812
Ines sighed as she shifted in her seat. She felt uncomfortable, not in the way she wished however. Her menstruation was a week late, or more accurately a month and a week late. She was a small, thin woman, a skipped cycle wasn’t too unusual, but she had never been this late. Though she had often loathed it, she would say a small prayer of gratitude if she could feel that painful clenching of her back muscles.
Even cramps were preferable to sitting alone in a crowded restaurant with a knife in your garter belt. Dressed in a low cut and fitted purple dress with a skirt that gathered around her thighs with a matching orchid barrette in her loose and wavy hair, she was capturing attention. She was used to such a thing however, this feeling of unease, it was not because of strange attention.
She had not been home in nearly a year. She had been stationed in Italy, seducing men of secrets and occasionally ending their lives. Now she had been called back “home”, yet it didn’t feel like any sort of comfortable space as she sat among its nameless inhabitants. Arriving late last night she had deigned to sleep in the hotel rather than rouse her fellow Innocenzos. Perhaps she was anxious if any major changes had happened in the household since she had left.
She poked at her meal of fruit and eggs with ham. She didn’t think it would be awkward to see Amel again, she had a vast and constantly revolving clientele, she had often run into men she had serviced buying food with their wives, or walking their children to school. Such things had always filled her with an ironic sadness however. It wouldn’t be the same with the capo, and perhaps that actually did make her anxious as well.
I need something new… and she didn’t know why she felt that way.
|
|
|
|
Post by Opa Ophilius on Aug 2, 2009 15:08:44 GMT -5
Opa gripped her canes tightly, heat gathering to her cheeks as stares followed her like flies. Though most of the diners were discreet about staring at her missing limb, Opa could feel an uncomfortable, humiliated knot form in her stomach as she struggled her way into an empty booth, waving over the waiter and grumbling her order for a small sandwich. She knew the implication of having an extremity removed: that she had seen battle, was probably from the wrong side of town, and had several nasty skeletons in her closet. Nevermind that almost all of that was untrue, the nasty rumors would continue to swarm.
Opa tried scanning the manu, vainly trying to ignore the whispers, but she could feel herself growing smaller and smaller. Eventually, she slapped the menu harshly on the table, glaring darkly at anyone who made a noise around her.
Still waiting for her meal, Opa absently tightened the dark tie around her neck, fiddling with the cuffs of her suit jacket. She had just returned from a job, after all, and hadn't had time to change into something more comfortable. She had simply gotten off the plane and headed straight here, to obey the demands her growling stomach gave her.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bella Uccella on Aug 2, 2009 16:32:03 GMT -5
Finished with her meal Ines discreetly pushed her plate side and put her silverware on her glass; a custom she had learned after many years of European living. Though as with everything else she could not remember when she had learned this, she just knew by her accent she was an American. Someone who should be ignorant of such things, yet she had learned to fit in with her adopted society acutely.
She reached intro her matching clutch purse, pushed aside the switch blade, and pulled out a compact. When at home she was not normally not this careful about her appearance, but she had been gone for so long she wished to show the others what she had made of herself. I am a whore, but damn it if I am not one a stunning one. As she pushed her mild pink lipstick on her full lips her eyes happened to see a flash of furious sepia eyes.
She moved the small reflective surface a few inches to the right where it caught a scowling girl who was glaring as if she dared every patron of that restaurant to look at her. Tickled, Ines dared. She adjusted the mirror so that her expression would be clearly seen by the younger woman when she looked to her left. Ines playfully smacked her lips, either adjusting her lipstick or subtly flirting. The wink however was far from innocent.
|
|
|
|
Post by Opa Ophilius on Aug 2, 2009 16:54:13 GMT -5
Opa moodily took her sandwich from the waiter without a thank you, biting into it fiercely to soothe her hunger. Her stomach currently satisfied, as she ate Opa glanced around the restaurant. She had been there before, but most times, she was too focused on her job to appreciate the decor.
Glancing to her left, she froze when she caught another woman staring at her. Quickly swallowing the rest of her meal, Opa kept her gaze trained on her. She was older, with dark skin, and very pretty. She almost looked like--
Opa forced herself to not finish that thought, her phantom left leg throbbing, as if mirroring her emotions sudden dipping into nostalgia. Anyway, who was she? Did she think she could just stare?
Opa's anger was muddled with confusion when the other girl winked at her, and she felt herself flush from further humiliation. It was as if she was saying, I see you, I refuse not to look away, what are you going to do about it?
Well, Opa knew what she was going to do about it.
Throwing the owed money on the table, she gripped her canes and made her way to the woman. She wanted a public spectacle, she would get one.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bella Uccella on Aug 2, 2009 18:03:46 GMT -5
Ines snapped her compact shut. Well wasn’t this a surprise, most young women waited to be approached. This one had quite a bit more vigor than many of the demur young ladies one encountered in upscale places like this. This stirred her imagination to who her target was. She took a side long glance at the cute pants outfit and then the missing leg. Ines raised an eyebrow, but was polite enough to not stare or otherwise draw attention. Land mine or bombing victims were hardly uncommon, or those otherwise scarred by that continental war.
“Please have a seat,” she requested coolly, patting the chair besides her. She smiled, a friendly gesture tinged with a lick of the lips that was subtle yet sensual. Such a spirited girl, but what is she doing alone in a place like this? I can only hope her parents are not about.
|
|
|
|
Post by Opa Ophilius on Aug 2, 2009 20:02:53 GMT -5
Opa eyed the woman warily, shuddering as she saw her lick her lips. Listening to her better judgement, she remained standing, ignoring the waiters and partons that were made to walk around her. Instead, she bent slightly so that she was eye-to-eye with her, clutching her canes tightly.
"What's this about?" She growled. "Who are you? I've never seen you here--watch it!" She snarled at a waitress with an armful of trays who had just brushed against her; the timid brunette hurriedly scurried away to service some more pleasant customers.
By the entrance of the restaurant, a cluster of tuxedoed men gathered, casting suspicious glances over to their table. The management no doubt, disgruntled by the noise she was making. She bared her teeth slightly, catching their gaze. Think you can throw me out? Just try it!
"Miss Ophilius--" A blond waitress began, likely to tell her off. It wasn't surprising she knew her name, she was a regular here, after all.
"Fine," She said, cutting off the waitress. Opa didn't fancy getting thrown out of one of her best places to pass on information.
Grudgingly, she took a seat where the other woman had indicated, and slowly, the annoyed staff went back to their business.
"What do you want?" She repeated, in a lower, more mellowed voice, but the anger was simmering just beneath the faux politeness.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bella Uccella on Aug 2, 2009 23:29:11 GMT -5
“Well your name but Miss Ophilius does sound rather adorable,” Ines said with a small laugh. She smiled indulgently at the blond waitress; the poor woman was just trying to do her job after all.
“You must come here often, I just arrived last night,” she left out that a year before this city had been her permanent residence. She gave the girl a coy look, something about her was scintillating, and it wasn’t just her temper. There was something about her that Ines couldn’t put her finger on, but it was rather like coaxing a venomous snake into your hand. You’re not a Liberatore, they certainly would not have drawn such unabashed attention to themselves.
“You can call me Bella Uccella.” That alias would not be known around here, she had only used it outside the house in Italy.
|
|
|
|
Post by Opa Ophilius on Aug 4, 2009 23:51:44 GMT -5
"I'm not calling you anything but suspicious," Opa retorted, growing red in shame and grabbing fistfuls of table cloth at the 'adorable' comment. What did this Bella think she was, a child?
"What brought you here?" She asked, finally gaining some control over her temper, feeling the weight of her revolver against her chest, nestled in her jacket. If this woman was an Innocenzo, she didn't have to waste her time. But, if she was the enemy, a filthy Liberatore...well, it might be worth it if she was able to feed her some false information.
She could only hope the other girl wouldn't interpret it as flirting.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bella Uccella on Aug 5, 2009 21:09:48 GMT -5
"Work brought me here." Ines countered easily. She ordered two cappuccinos, she decided she could spare to stay a while. She hadn't been give a set time to return to Wammy's, only a letter telling her to do so when she had tied up any loose ends in case she was sent to Italy once again.
"Yet what brought you to me? Blue to black?" she mused, trailing a long finger against an embroidered flower on the table cloth, a blue petaled rose with a black stem.
|
|
|
|
Post by Opa Ophilius on Aug 5, 2009 21:32:57 GMT -5
"I don't drink coffee, it's too bitter." She protested as Bella ordered her a drink without asking. She really was treating her like a child! Ignoring anything she said, acting on her own, not taking her opinion into account!
"You were staring at me, what did you expect me to do?" She replied hotly in response to the question, confused at being called 'blue': she wasn't wearing anything blue. Opa took a deep breath, fruitlessly attempting to calm herself once again. Mission, right. Figure out if this girl was a Liberatore was her first priority, not fighting over coffee. But she made her so angry--
"Work did? What kind of work?" She asked, gripping her canes tightly beneath the tablecloth.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bella Uccella on Aug 7, 2009 20:56:08 GMT -5
So many questions... Ines folded her hands and rested her chin on them as she rested her elbows on the table. She just smiled at the aggravated asking. The blue has a red tinge.
"I'm sorry, it's a common drink, you can put sugar in it however, or have the waitress put flavored syrup in it, or you can order something else," she replied about the coffee with a shrug. It made no difference to her, and she felt it probably didn't really to this girl anyway either.
"My work is the yellow sort, the kind many young women think they can excel simply because they're red at but then they find it's true vibrant shade and want to escape. It turns most orange at the end, perhaps even myself." she said simply, with perhaps a small frown.
"And you...have purple work. You hide blue in red," she scooted closer to the other girl.
|
|
|
|
Post by Opa Ophilius on Aug 8, 2009 1:44:56 GMT -5
Opa blinked at all the talk of colors intermingled with words that made little sense anyway. Red? Wasn't red the colour of passion, or violence? And orange was--
Opa stopped herself in mid-thought and shook her head fiercely. The girl was trying to distract her, that was all! Take away her focus and steer the conversation so it benefitted her. The amputee momentarily released one cane to adjust her tie, in unconcious gesture that was a signal of her growing anxiety. She failed to notice Bella slowly closing the gap between them, and it was just as well.
"Where did you say you were from?" She continued on. "Italy?"
If Ines said yes, then chances were she was the enemy. Opa had heard from the grapevine that the Liberatore family was stationed there, which had made her location all the more convenient.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bella Uccella on Aug 9, 2009 13:32:44 GMT -5
"I didn't say where I was from," Ines replied happily, smiling benignly. She moved closer and lifted a small hand to lay on the girl's thigh. "Why don't you guess?"
Being dark skinned yet with no detectable accent she got many amusing replies, however the most amusing of all was how one reacted to that hand. That was the true tell, let me see how well they train us now Miss Ophilius. She was skating on thin ice, this girl could be a new Liberatore recruit, Ines could usually trust her intuition, however even that failed her occasionally. As in that time Amel had saved her.
This was a thrilling way to die however, and perhaps she didn't even mind if such a girl was the one to finally slit her throat.
|
|
|
|
Post by Opa Ophilius on Aug 12, 2009 11:44:10 GMT -5
Opa tensed in dread and coiling rage as that small hand laid on her thigh, her heart, already pounding from nerves, errupting into a searing, ardenaline-fueled rhythm. She had two choices: beat the hand off--but that could also result in losing her chance for information. Or maybe Bella would get the grim satisfaction of getting a rise out of her? But then again, in that sense, Bella had won the instant Opa had stormed over here. Then there was option number two, which left a bad taste in her mouth: play along, and milk the girl for anything she knew.
Her tie suddenly felt like a noose as she shifted in the leather seat, listening to that teasing voice, daring her to keep up the act.
"I already guessed Italy." She said with gritted teeth, resisting the urge to beat her with her cane at the unwelcome touch. One hand started creeping towards the inside pocket of her jacket, towards her revolver, which she would use if the touch slid up too high.
"Moreover, have you heard anything new lately on the warfront?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Bella Uccella on Aug 20, 2009 22:01:22 GMT -5
"Now Italy I will give you," the hand moved up further. "I was not born there, it's just a good place for business."
"'Warfront' however is not a term I'm familiar with, enlighten me." As always an information exchange was a thin string to be walked delicately upon. This girl, Ines wanted to see how good she was. A Liberatore woman certainly have no trouble pulling the same move.
Also with her hand on a young girl's thigh in a public place was thrilling. Ines lived a life of intrigue and slept with danger, but to be able to indulge in something so morally reproachable in the open, she relished it. Perhaps this was the change she had longed for.
|
|
.
.
