Post by Charlotte H. Rayland on Feb 6, 2013 18:40:57 GMT -5
She carried a small, dark, grey and maroon umbrella that shielded her from even the strongest of the day's rays. Her eyes were a faded blue, like the kind you'd find on someone who had lost their seeing sense. Her pale skin stood out like a black sheep among white, her clothes a frilly sort of dress, accommodated with silky gloves and a small top hat. The dress was the same color as her accessorized umbrella, only it had pitch black stripes on a dark fabric. A small hand extended upwards to adjust the position of her head-ware, putting it a slight tilt. She let out a sigh as she opened the door to the thing humans called a 'cafe', apparently they came to soothe their stressful days at their trade and perhaps to get away from troublesome people. Then again, what human wasn't troublesome. She smoothed her dress and walked in, her petite frame casting an even smaller shadow on the hardwood floors. The umbrella closed as she stepped inside the cool environment, the dark shadows helped to let her face relax. It seemed humans had done well in the compartment of hospitality. Although, the strange stares the males gave her made her face warm up like the sun was still on her cheeks. Shaking off the men, she walked up to the nearest table, a single table near the window with two seats, the table was a ebony, wooded, round shape and it was clean, so kudos to them in cleanliness as well.
She set her face upon her hand, the gentle fall and rise of her chest gently brushing the table as she breathed in a comfortable manner.
Charlie, honey, it's not very mannerable if you slouch like that.
Her back straightened as she thought of her father's words. He was always criticizing her manners like that, probably for her own benefit of course. Charlotte, was a 17 year old girl on her own, her small size though often put people off to think that she was younger, around 12 or 13 they usually though. Always teased about her little frame, but of course her large bust always caught the attention too, damn perverts.
Charlie, she had grown with that nickname, sometimes it was Lottie or Char, but mostly it was Charlie. She never minded, the name sounded masculine and she always got kicks out of people who though her of the male sex.
She chuckled slightly, lost in her own world as she turned her attention to the outside window. Outside people of all kinds strolled by, men with large briefcases, others on bicycles or riding by on scooters. But she always found herself watching the children especially, the women with round bellies or the little toddlers holding their fingers in their mouths. Charlotte had always loved children, she wanted her own someday, but then the idea of finding a male accompaniment always made her flush. As she did now, her light blue eyes looked at the mother, tagged by a small boy. She smiled faintly, the shadowing becoming overcast across her.
After a moment of sheer silence, she had the sense to turn around and face her predecessor.
She set her face upon her hand, the gentle fall and rise of her chest gently brushing the table as she breathed in a comfortable manner.
Charlie, honey, it's not very mannerable if you slouch like that.
Her back straightened as she thought of her father's words. He was always criticizing her manners like that, probably for her own benefit of course. Charlotte, was a 17 year old girl on her own, her small size though often put people off to think that she was younger, around 12 or 13 they usually though. Always teased about her little frame, but of course her large bust always caught the attention too, damn perverts.
Charlie, she had grown with that nickname, sometimes it was Lottie or Char, but mostly it was Charlie. She never minded, the name sounded masculine and she always got kicks out of people who though her of the male sex.
She chuckled slightly, lost in her own world as she turned her attention to the outside window. Outside people of all kinds strolled by, men with large briefcases, others on bicycles or riding by on scooters. But she always found herself watching the children especially, the women with round bellies or the little toddlers holding their fingers in their mouths. Charlotte had always loved children, she wanted her own someday, but then the idea of finding a male accompaniment always made her flush. As she did now, her light blue eyes looked at the mother, tagged by a small boy. She smiled faintly, the shadowing becoming overcast across her.
After a moment of sheer silence, she had the sense to turn around and face her predecessor.
