undergrounds | Anklebiters (Feb open post)

Why do you care what people think?
Department store, early February

"No. No, no, no. Also no."

To say that Skip is picky is... Well. It's very accurate. But Lupercalia with a new pack isn't exactly an every day occurrence. What she does and what she wears there will get back to her father, so she actually has to put some thought into all of it. Even if she'd rather just ignore everything that happens in the middle of February.

"Purple and gold, maybe?" she says, half to herself and half to whatever poor person might be walking too close.

Try to remember how it felt
Jolly Roger, all February

On the clock, Skip has only two settings. She is either excessively friendly or incredibly short-tempered. The usual good will of her as a bartender is sorely lacking, and woe to the person who implies that anything related to her being female has any bearing on the situation. Women are given proper service with a fair amount of friendliness, but men are singled out more than usual as either targets of her rage or objects of her interest. In the bar itself and in the back room.

"'Nother round?" she asks, stopping at a customer to collect what's empty.

Fall in love with yourself
Coffee shop, mid February

February and Skip simply do not get along. She's on edge far more than usual, especially when out and about. And being out with her sketchpad, sitting at a table by the window. It's deceptively warm with the sun pouring in.

The drawing she's working on is of a skeleton, laying back against a bush. Thorns have encircled the ribs, and, in the center of his chest, there is a single rose where the heart should be.

Skip sips her coffee as she sketches in details.

The only one you've got
Simon's flat, February 17th -- closed to Simon

Lupercalia is done. Valentine's Day is over. And Skip can finally start pretending that this month doesn't exist. She still hates February, yes, but at least it's almost done.

So, after a bit of warning -- mostly to make sure they're alone -- she's at the door, holding a bottle of vodka and dressed in an blue ombre cocktail dress.

A broken mirror to reflect
North Pole, late February

Dressed in thigh-high tights and a skirt that barely covers the top of them, Skip is completely at home in the noise of the club.

Tonight, she has only one goal: not going home alone. Maybe not going home at all.

With the music pounding in her ears, she sways to the beat and moves from partner to partner on the dancefloor. The more eyes she can get on her, the better.

When she does take a break from dancing, she stays close to the bar, leaning against it and making sure her cup stays full.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Matt was in a bit of a haze at the Jolly Roger. It was one of the many pubs in his rotation as he wasted the nights away, avoiding the moment when he would have to crawl home. He was still avoiding Simon, among other things, and drinking let him drown the sensible voice in his head that told him he was being stupid.

The voice didn't register right away. Matt glanced up and smiled, the old charm immediately kicking in. He didn't bother to hide it anymore. He was beyond caring if he pushed someone too far, manipulating their wants to sync with his own against their better judgement. It was easier when everyone loved him.

"Sure thing," he said with a wink, his words heavy and seductive. "In fact, why don't you sit down and have one yourself. I'm sure no one will mind if you go on break."

"Long as you're buyin'," Skip replies with a grin. And, in fact, she turns right back to the bar. "Oi! Don!" The other bartender looks up. "Get this gent another round, and I'll have my usual. Goin' on break."

Don might not be... particularly happy looking about it, but there's not much he seems to be able to say either as she takes off her apron, sets it on a chair and slides in right next to the customer.

Matt shifts over, giving the lady a place to sit next to him. He isn't worried about money and with every drink the responsible voice is drowned out even more. The warm body pressed next to him does even more than the alcohol to push any thoughts of restraint out of his mind.

He waits until the drinks are in front of him before he picks up his glass and clicks it against her own. "Cheers," he says. "Drinking is far better with a pretty girl at my side."

Skip's drink is a shot, one that's a nice orange-red in colour, and she raises it before drinking it.

"I hate drinkin' alone. Lot more fun when you've got some good company with you."

And a cute guy? Just what the doctor ordered to make February a lot more bearable.

"I think we're on the same page."

There's something about her that is oddly familiar. Matt has a nagging sensation that he's met her before but he can't place where. "How long have you been working here?" he asks. "I can't imagine that I would have missed meeting you. Seems rather rude of me not to invite you to have a drink with me before tonight."

"Been workin' since August, luv," she replies with a laugh. "Started 'round the time I started term at uni."

She leans back a bit in the chair, still grinning.

"Gotta say, sorry I ain' seen you 'round before."

"I suppose we're just two ships passing in the night," Matt laughed, the nagging little tug in his head becoming a nuisance. What did it matter if he recognized her? It wasn't as though he'd already slept with her - his list of partners since arriving in London had been sadly low. He would have remembered her had that been the case. So what was it then?

"Of course, I've only been here a few times. Must have been your nights off. Looks as though I'll have to make up for all of those missed opportunities."

He held out his hand in introduction. "My name is Matt, but I like how you call me 'luv."

"I might've been in the back, too. VIP section."

Supernatural section, actually, but 'VIP' worked. People had a problem with the definition, they could take it up with the owner. It wasn't her problem to deal with.

She put her hand in his with a grin.

"'M Skip."

Matt took her hand and squeezed it, the name sounding oddly familiar. He was already past the tipsy stage of drunk which made it difficult to remember why he should know her. "Skip," he repeated. "Sounds as though there's a story behind your name. I'd love to hear it."

"Got brothers who're assholes," she said with a laugh. "Anythin' more than that? Past. An' I don' bother much with talkin' 'bout that."

Matt liked the sound of her laugh. It was infectious. "Sitting next to you with a drink in front of me and I don't feel much about remembering the past," he said. "I would much rather focus on the present."

He lifted his glass and finished off his drink, the pleasant buzzing dampening into a more languid hum. He was drunk and interested in much more than simple small talk and alcohol. "Speaking of, I was wondering how much trouble you would get in if I were to kiss you. Do you think your boss would mind?"

"Kiss me, huh? Well. I dunno what my boss'd say, but I know I sure as Hell wouldn' mind."

Besides, her new boss? Not great at inspiring loyalty. And she was one of the few willing to work the back room and unwilling to take shit from customers. He wouldn't fire her.

"Glad to hear it."

Matt shifted over in his seat so that he was closer to her. There was something so familiar about her that continued to tug at the back of his mind. He brushed her hair from her face as he leaned in to press his lips against hers. She was gorgeous and all he wanted to was lose himself in the kiss. But that strange feeling wouldn't go away.

"Are you sure I've never met you before?" he asked softly.

"Dunno, luv," she replied with a laugh after the kiss. But since it seems to be bothering him, she shrugs her shoulders and leans back in her chair.

"Where y' think you've seen me? Maybe that'll help."

Anklebiters (Feb open post)

Try to remember how it felt, early Feb

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