|
|
Post by Denali Thibideau on Mar 4, 2022 4:22:29 GMT
Telluride was, in its own way, beautiful. It was no New Orleans, the streets weren't paved in gold, and there was no music pouring out of the bars. In fact, at sometime-around-two-pm (aka: when he woke up), the bars were closed and the window shades were drawn. Unless there was some secret side to this city that he was unaware of, it seemed pretty boring. Everybody was up and moving just a couple of hours after he fell asleep, off to their jobs or family obligations... or whatever it was people did when the sun was still climbing the horizon. He didn't like to compete with the sun, oh no. He'd wait to rise until it was on its slow decline, off to the next hemisphere.
Denali stretched one hand high above his head, bracing his arm with the other as he leaned back in a dramatic stretch. Waking up was one of the worst parts of his day. Wait, no, that wasn't true. Waking up wasn't so bad. Getting out from under his favorite, ratty old puff blanket... Now, that was a Couillion.
The Market seemed to be the daytime hub of activity, and the place he felt drawn to the least... which was why he went there first. It seemed like where he could simultaneously learn about the people that called this place home and not run into any reason he might find to really turn this city upside down. He wandered the streets of the bustling hub, returning his hands to his pockets and gazing at the different stores and their wares.
|
|
|
|
Post by Will Wildly on Mar 21, 2022 7:27:12 GMT
She wasn’t carrying anything today not lifting a finger other h than an occasional pinky as she picked up her drink and over turned her wrist as her purse straps were draped over her elbow she was dressed up in a knee-length dress and she was having a night on the town. Her hair was half up and half down in a messy bun packed in a claw clip whispy strands of red curls danced over her cheeks. Her shoes were hand made and ordered custom. A rubber padded wooden soul and a woven design over the top. She didn’t clop with every step today. Her dress has a summery flow in its length and her shoulders were decorated in flowing loose half sleeves. Her neck line was halter and crossed over one side in a layer also custom to her size.
She was not lifting a damn thing today. She was feeling gorgeous in her mint green dress and rustic flats. She felt beautiful and she was going to be adamant about it. The looks people gave were not because she was big but because she was like any other woman. She was determined to believe it despite anything that would happen.
Her smile was clean and white. The braces she once had made them straight and pristine. The fruity drink in her hand was orange in color and would smell of tropical fruits.
She paused a moment however and looked around realizing she was lost. Searching a second or two to find someone who looked comfortable in this element without seeming unapproachable she rested her gaze on a man. Her southern accent was mild but present.
“Pardon me, do you know where the nearby map of the building is?”
|
|
|
|
Post by Denali Thibideau on Mar 22, 2022 4:30:17 GMT
Of course he saw her. He's have to be blind or stupid to have missed her, towering over the rest of the plebians and still somehow managing to walk with the sort of pride that he only ever truly saw at Mardis Gras. It was refreshing... She was different, abnormal, a welcome break from these cookie cutter people who, rather suddenly, made his skin crawl. He loved it here in Telluride, right up until the moment something reminded him of home... and then, it was as if the city were suddenly cold, untouchable, and oh so very drab. She was a bright, shining light, if for no other reason.... than simply because of her flair.
Denali had sidled a bit closer to her as she wandered, catching whiff of her drink without her quite catching sight of him. Not like that mattered much. He prided himself on being fairly tall, especially for a Cajun man, but she dwarfed him in size. At one point, when he knew she wasn't looking, he ran his flat palms over his crimson colored hair. Maybe that was why he liked her, instantly. Redheads. Gotta stick together.
Just as she was glancing around, he turned ever so slightly, just to make it less obvious that he had been admiring her. When she approached, however, his face lit in a charming, boyish smile known for melting the hearts of... Well, to be fair, melting the hearts of drunk tourists, and the people just as in love with his city as he was. Representing New Orleans felt so vital, vibrant, and vivacious to him, but to most people, they assumed he was a sleazeball, thief, or starving artist. Little did they know.
"Mon cher," he said with amusement brightening his tone. His accent, unlike hers, was anything but mild. He had spoken with it his entire life, perfecting every dip and tone until it was either a delicate caress... or pure sandpaper. Depends on whether or not they like his city, which would be the deciding factor in whether or not he liked them. "I'm about as lost as you are, here. First night and all. You must give it some time~ I'm good, but not that good."
He spoke to her with an instant familiarity, one that caught most people off guard, and his smile continued to lighten his face. It was impossible to tell if he was 16, 26, 36.... He seemed almost ageless, suspended in time with seemingly flawless skin, unwrinkled aside from the very beginnings of laugh-lines right around his eyes. Proven a myth or not, just looking at him made it impossible not to believe that smiling that much gave you wrinkles.
|
|
|
|
Post by Will Wildly on Mar 22, 2022 9:37:21 GMT
There was a smell of sweetness and spice there was lights twinkling on towers moving at a slow pace. Hot southern nights kissed with humidity hugging one’s skin. Joy was heard in and the memories were a reminder come to life of a trip she took for four years in a row with some of her closest friends to New Orleans. His accent brought forth some happy times and the surprise and courteous gentleman way he spoke to her was such a breath of fresh air.
“Well I’ll be!” She exclaimed her belle became much stronger in her excitement. “Your accent… I’m from Texas and I’ve been here but a few weeks myself. It’s so nice to hear somethin’ a bit more Familiar.”
She reached a hand to the stranger. “I’m Wilma Wildy… I also answer to Will.”
|
|
|
|
Post by Denali Thibideau on Mar 29, 2022 23:08:45 GMT
It was easy enough to recognize her accent, but the way she moved and spoke? That was what gave her away more than anything. A little smile touched his face and he bathed in the glory of familiarity. It wasn't New Orleans, it wasn't the sound of his fellow Cajuns or Creoles, but it was something a lot closer to home.
"Which do you prefer?" he drawled out, letting his accent drag the words into more syllables than necessary. The hint of French that New Orleans people could never seem to be rid of played in his tone, but there was no doubting where this boy was from. His hand snaked out from wherever it had been to grasp at hers, but instead of shaking it, as was customary, he very quickly moved to shift his wrist, flicking the back of her hand straight upright. Bending at the waist, a well practiced notion for far too many years that he was way too good at, he placed a delicate, cool, butterfly kiss upon the skin. Immediately after, he released the hand he had held hostage and took a single step back, his gaze darting up to her face. He wanted to see her reaction, to see how far was too far with this woman.
He offered her a smile and a nod towards the nearest bar, moving to head in that direction himself. When he walked, he turned almost sideways, keeping her in his line of sight and using his (albeit, thin and significantly smaller than hers) body as a barrier between the pressing crowd and Will, should she choose to join him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Will Wildly on Apr 1, 2022 20:16:01 GMT
Frankly his motion startled her frankly she froze in place and her cheeks which adorned Irish pale roots blushed with color in the rosiest of ways. She was starved for this feeling. She felt her heart swell in her chest and flutter up like a balloon her eyes softened in seconds and a smile of absolute giddy proportions stretched in her smitten peak. She grew bashful having not contained her joy in the moment that her free hand raised to her cheek and covered it. Her cool fingers were quickly warmed by her blushing.
“Will is fine.” Her voice was a slight pitch higher and the smile was heard by a blind man.
She followed him without issue and was happy and hopeful to think this was real and not some sick prank or if this person had weird fetishized dreams to fulfill.
|
|
|
|
Post by Denali Thibideau on Apr 14, 2022 9:05:09 GMT
The intensity of her reaction nearly took him back, but that fact didn't show. Denali moved with the sort of well-practiced grace and smooth control that people from his city were known for having, and that suave little bastard flicked his gaze up to Will for just one second before he straightened, catching her gaze with brilliant eyes hooded by lengthy, feminine lashes. It was the kind of look that usually had even the New Orleans girls shivering, despite their proximity to more than a few guys just like him.
And then, he was leading her through the crowd, and he felt a simple little pang in his heart. It was always the ones that were so desperate for affection that broke him the most.... the ones that reminded him of her, the ones that the world had turned away from or refused to look at in the first place. He could not, for the life of him, understand why people felt the need to be so cruel.
"Come now, Will. What is your guilty pleasure this fine day?" he purred as they neared the bar, glancing over his shoulder and pausing one last time to clear the path between them and two stools. "If we're going to be lost, we might as well enjoy the experience, after all." He raised one thin-boned hand to the bartender, catching his attention, as he held back the people as if he were used to controlling crowds. "This rounds on me, so get whatever your heart desires."
|
|
|
|
Post by Will Wildly on Apr 16, 2022 10:39:46 GMT
She indeed loved the gazes and the charm. If he was a pervert with a fetish or this was a big joke or anything else he was good. As she was lead through the bar there was the additional stares and whispers that came to her ear a little louder in the quieter place and harder to ignore.
She took a deep breath. She wasn’t here for them. They had no claim to how she should feel especially not in the first dress that fit her like a glove since this whole mess started.
She recovered quickly when they sat down and Denali would ask her about her drink. Well that started a full swing of thoughts. Nothing expensive, what would he think I’d she got just a beer? What if she got something fruity or colorful then what would be thought about. She concluded that no matter what she got there was a possibility she’d be labeled as any associated kind of woman and then so be it. She was a kind of woman a kind of woman named Will. As if a single Drink could define who she was.
She sat in the chair gently. It became habit to almost test a chair before putting her whole weight in it. “Let’s try something craft and local. This area is really booming with them. Have anything like that?” She asked the bartender.
She wasn’t some kind of beer aficionado but she grew entertained in trying the local stuff. A lot of small businesses right now are actually being started because Nen users find it hard to find some jobs. So they become some homemade business. She admitted to her self that this edge of the country holds a lot of hope for people to start themselves new.
|
|
|
|
Post by Denali Thibideau on Apr 25, 2022 9:10:48 GMT
He heard the whispers, just as she did, and for just a moment... his smile faltered. One individual in particular seemed to have a world to say, but most of it was hidden behind one hand. He turned his head slowly as Will took her seat, his gaze scanning the crowd, until it landed square on the voice that hadn't stopped shrilling in the last few minutes. His smile faded completely then, replaced by a look of pure and utter disgust.
The fact that these women thought it appropriate to whine and bitch and whisper to each other... It was appalling. It was sickening. He had met many different kinds of women in his life, and in their own way, they were all beautiful...
"You know," he called out, rapt in the emotion that demanded he respond. "There's enough of that in this world without you adding to."
The stranger stared at him in shock for a moment as he fought to reign in the boiling rage. Had she said anything in that moment, he had a slew of things to say right back... but luckily for him, she was quick to drop some cash on the counter and rush off to her girlfriends, as if they were any better. He made a soft noise and muttered something derogatory in French beneath his breath before turning to look at Will once more.
She had made her order and he had missed it completely. He winced slightly, trying to figure out any hint of it from the stoic bartender, who had simply nodded at Will's request and turned to Denali with expectant eyes. He tried out one of his world famous grins, but that typically only worked on certain types. Looking a bit abashed, he raised a hand to ruffle his already spiky red hair, then glanced back to this stranger he sat with.
"Well. I'll just... I'll have something sweet and something fruity. Vodka for a main, mon bon cher~"
The bartender rolled his eyes before moving to make their drinks, and Denali settled in to look at Will with another smile. "This, what did you order here? I missed it entirely, eksiz~"
|
|
|
|
Post by Will Wildly on Apr 27, 2022 10:21:08 GMT
He made an order and honestly she thought him ordering a near cosmopolitan line of drink was an interesting one. Not that she judged it but then again it made her realize she over thought her choice. She hadn’t noted the conversation he just had with someone but did note a very huffy hussy trot away like she had been told her dress made her look fat. She could think more about it but instead straighten up and stayed right in this moment. To her the rest of the bar at her back didn’t exist.
“Oh… I asked for something local.” She grinned. “It’s pretty common these days for people to brew their own. Some are starting in garages and some have grown into small warehouses and whether it’s an IPA, a bitter, or a stout I think it’s kind of fun to guess and support small businesses at the same time.” She brushed hair from her cheek which was kind of an embarrassed shade of soft red.
“I could say since I was about sixteen I’ve been sampling my Uncle Danny’s brews. He made wines, hooch, moonshine, and beer to be absolutely determined to create a goldmine from something.” She started. “He was not bad at any of it but I think he liked creating more than he liked profiting. He constantly wanted to make something better when what he had was absolutely sellable. Danny’s weekly limited edition stock was almost a traditional thing at Greyhound Saloon. Who knew what it was and who knew if it was good all most people actually cared about was knowing it was strong… except for Fourth of July in two- thousand and three.”
|
|
