Exposed cloth clung to her, stained a darker shade from her time out in the rain. Mud caked her boots and began to soil the hardwood floor the longer she remained stapled to the door. She was dressed quite simply, adorned in dark greens and blues, with a large weapon concealed in thick cloth tethered to her back. Throwing knives lined her right thigh and the hilt of a dagger peaked out from the folds of her left boot.
Isabeau paused a moment, taking in the hulk of a man before her. There were a few options, and accessing what sort of person he was would tell her which would be the better play.
She lowered her hood, glancing him over shamelessly. A grin sparked along her face. "I am sure she told you a good many things about me, all of course to serve her own purpose." She said, avoiding Regina all together.
His was a game of strength ... or chicken. But she had no intention of pecking first. Still, risks had to be taken. She move gracefully through the grand room, lavishly decorated, accented in golds and reds. Even the bath oils he was supplied with had to have cost a fortune, she inhaled deeply as she passed him, taking in the hint of lavender. She crossed over to the table, cluttered with enough food to feed a militia.
"I see she hasn't lost her taste..." She muttered, allowing a finger to trail over the edge of the place setting, decorated with fine dinnerware.
She had already invaded his space, interrupted his bath and meal. She could have played the pompous bitch and pressed against him while passing, picked at his food as she came upon the heaping display. But he wasn't her enemy, at least not yet. And it was as clear as day that she was painted as his.
"The way I see it, you have two options." she turned to face him, the jovial look dissipated as quickly as it had sprung. "We can enjoy each others company a moment, I can tell you my side of the story, if it's even something that interests you, or ... , she reached down and slipped the dagger from her boot, casually rotating it within the palm of her hand. "... we can do this the hard way. While you have no reason to trust me, I will tell you, I am not your enemy here, nor do I have any desire to fight you. But the choice is yours."
Short, simple and sweet... enough, despite the lack of niceties and grandiose. There was no nonsense, no bullshit. She needed to establish her position without awaking the sleeping giant that had rested within each tensed muscle. Her eyes sparkled as the candlelight flickered through the room, not with fear or hesitation, but with that of purpose and determination.
@Zero Hex
Isabeau paused a moment, taking in the hulk of a man before her. There were a few options, and accessing what sort of person he was would tell her which would be the better play.
She lowered her hood, glancing him over shamelessly. A grin sparked along her face. "I am sure she told you a good many things about me, all of course to serve her own purpose." She said, avoiding Regina all together.
His was a game of strength ... or chicken. But she had no intention of pecking first. Still, risks had to be taken. She move gracefully through the grand room, lavishly decorated, accented in golds and reds. Even the bath oils he was supplied with had to have cost a fortune, she inhaled deeply as she passed him, taking in the hint of lavender. She crossed over to the table, cluttered with enough food to feed a militia.
"I see she hasn't lost her taste..." She muttered, allowing a finger to trail over the edge of the place setting, decorated with fine dinnerware.
She had already invaded his space, interrupted his bath and meal. She could have played the pompous bitch and pressed against him while passing, picked at his food as she came upon the heaping display. But he wasn't her enemy, at least not yet. And it was as clear as day that she was painted as his.
"The way I see it, you have two options." she turned to face him, the jovial look dissipated as quickly as it had sprung. "We can enjoy each others company a moment, I can tell you my side of the story, if it's even something that interests you, or ... , she reached down and slipped the dagger from her boot, casually rotating it within the palm of her hand. "... we can do this the hard way. While you have no reason to trust me, I will tell you, I am not your enemy here, nor do I have any desire to fight you. But the choice is yours."
Short, simple and sweet... enough, despite the lack of niceties and grandiose. There was no nonsense, no bullshit. She needed to establish her position without awaking the sleeping giant that had rested within each tensed muscle. Her eyes sparkled as the candlelight flickered through the room, not with fear or hesitation, but with that of purpose and determination.
@Zero Hex