Post by Sarika on Sept 30, 2012 20:00:18 GMT -5
((Executive order #287 allows Sarika and Chen to post outside of their prior thread.))
Stringy and coated with a greasy residue, her long, sharply cut bangs curved across her face and into her eyes. All around her the smell of sweet and sticky sauces lingered: to her skin, to her clothes. The party was in full swing tonight, waiters and waitresses whirling about the latest celebrants of the night's victors in their soft, sky blue uniforms that contrasted so intensely with the oriental ginger stained wood beams that lined and framed the rooms. Fans of the Wolfbats had come out in full force to celebrate the victorious Tahno, Ming and Shaozu though the team would not be arrival for their usual post Victory dinner for a while yet. Glassware clinked and drinks were spilled among the loud and raucous peasantry that gathered. Girls had done themselves up in their very best, caking on the makeup until their faces resembled clowns while the men had put on their sharpest suits, and pulled long drags on cigarettes and pipes until the air was filled with smoke (Even more so than usual).
Sarika had been on her feet all day, working both an early shift and an afternoon shift. Who cares if Tahno was expected in a few hours, her feet were sore and she. was. tired. Ai fen would mock her later for missing this opportunity but what did it matter? Narook's daughter always got to wait on Tahno, never any of the others. She rolled her eyes as she walked from the back of the house, another cheer of victory rising up as thick steins of various brews sloshed in the air. All of this fuss.. Spirits, how she loved it! Yet.. her feet as well as her head begged her not to say. She stopped at the bar, banging her fist on the rosewood finish as she shouted a farewell at the men and ladies through the passthru, grabbing a greasy doggy bag of eggrolls from a beat up, hairy arm that reached through.
"Thanks Ahtahka!" She chuckled - the older man was always worried about the girls getting too thin around Republic City. He was always preparing the richest food for Ai Fen when she came around, passing it off as a thin, weak woman could not bear healthy, strong sons. She suspected some of his dotting on Sarika was because his own daughter had died young of a consuming disease and he wanted to make sure the girl, who spent wildly on furnishings and an apartment she probably shouldn't have didn't seem to eat much in his opinion. She pressed her coral hued lips into a smile as she tucked the eggrolls into her messanger back that criss-crossed her shoulders, pressing against her chest with the weight.
Sarika hurried across the floor, pass Narook who stood at the host's stand near the entrance, passing by the mean and angry scared masks carved from drift wood and decorated with furs and leathers that hung on thick, trunk like posts at the entrance. she opened the door, a bell dinging through the sound was lost in the celebration and the cool night air wooshed into the smoky restaurant with a healing rejuvenation. She pulled the paper screen, sliding door shut behind her before twirling about on the pavestones, her mint eyes downcast as she moved forward.
Right into the stiff chest of a incoming patron. One who did not smell like a fish drowned in soy sauce with stir fry for hair.
Stringy and coated with a greasy residue, her long, sharply cut bangs curved across her face and into her eyes. All around her the smell of sweet and sticky sauces lingered: to her skin, to her clothes. The party was in full swing tonight, waiters and waitresses whirling about the latest celebrants of the night's victors in their soft, sky blue uniforms that contrasted so intensely with the oriental ginger stained wood beams that lined and framed the rooms. Fans of the Wolfbats had come out in full force to celebrate the victorious Tahno, Ming and Shaozu though the team would not be arrival for their usual post Victory dinner for a while yet. Glassware clinked and drinks were spilled among the loud and raucous peasantry that gathered. Girls had done themselves up in their very best, caking on the makeup until their faces resembled clowns while the men had put on their sharpest suits, and pulled long drags on cigarettes and pipes until the air was filled with smoke (Even more so than usual).
Sarika had been on her feet all day, working both an early shift and an afternoon shift. Who cares if Tahno was expected in a few hours, her feet were sore and she. was. tired. Ai fen would mock her later for missing this opportunity but what did it matter? Narook's daughter always got to wait on Tahno, never any of the others. She rolled her eyes as she walked from the back of the house, another cheer of victory rising up as thick steins of various brews sloshed in the air. All of this fuss.. Spirits, how she loved it! Yet.. her feet as well as her head begged her not to say. She stopped at the bar, banging her fist on the rosewood finish as she shouted a farewell at the men and ladies through the passthru, grabbing a greasy doggy bag of eggrolls from a beat up, hairy arm that reached through.
"Thanks Ahtahka!" She chuckled - the older man was always worried about the girls getting too thin around Republic City. He was always preparing the richest food for Ai Fen when she came around, passing it off as a thin, weak woman could not bear healthy, strong sons. She suspected some of his dotting on Sarika was because his own daughter had died young of a consuming disease and he wanted to make sure the girl, who spent wildly on furnishings and an apartment she probably shouldn't have didn't seem to eat much in his opinion. She pressed her coral hued lips into a smile as she tucked the eggrolls into her messanger back that criss-crossed her shoulders, pressing against her chest with the weight.
Sarika hurried across the floor, pass Narook who stood at the host's stand near the entrance, passing by the mean and angry scared masks carved from drift wood and decorated with furs and leathers that hung on thick, trunk like posts at the entrance. she opened the door, a bell dinging through the sound was lost in the celebration and the cool night air wooshed into the smoky restaurant with a healing rejuvenation. She pulled the paper screen, sliding door shut behind her before twirling about on the pavestones, her mint eyes downcast as she moved forward.
Right into the stiff chest of a incoming patron. One who did not smell like a fish drowned in soy sauce with stir fry for hair.
