09-06-2008, 02:33 PM
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Holy fudgenuggets college is busy this semester!
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Re: Settling the Score (Altamira)
OoC: As promised, here's your post. :3 This can start moving along again now.
IC:
"Tracey, time for dinner!"
The sleuth put down the files she'd been poring over, and rolled off the bed. Sheets trailed off with her, dragging along pillows onto the floor. The thing had been left completely unmade until Monroe had come home... and now she felt bad about ruining his hard work. She smoothed out the sheets and pillows as best she could and cleared off her papers onto a nightstand before coming down the steps for dinner.
I wonder... if there's still a sister of Alex's roaming about...
The girl was there to pull her along to the kitchen when she'd reached the foyer. She was grinning, with the look that said she was impatient to eat and you'd better not slow her down, and as she tugged on Tracey's shirtsleeve she said, "Hurry up, lady, dinner's gonna get cold."
Dinner's going to get cold...? Monroe did seem to be working really hard on this meal, like he had news. Cases have kept me from eating much lately, but that's only because food is a distraction, and you push yourself more to unravel a puzzle if it's standing between you and some primal urge like that to eat.
But... I can make an exception this time, for him.
The redhead let the girl lead her along to the table, where plates upon plates of food were laid out, with tongs, spoons, and ladles to serve them with. A medley of delicious smells wafted up from the large spread, reminding Tracey just how much she'd missed food the past few days.
"This looks amazing," she told Monroe as he walked over to pull out a chair for her. The detective said it with a smile, but her green eyes also fixed him with a puzzled look that he could easily read. In that glance was a question: what's the news you need to share?
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The wind rode over the dunes, across the Pé del Fuego's sands that still shimmered in the night with their heat, and into the tree-lined streets of Blancwood, entering as a cool breeze that ruffled curtains and gently shook branches. Then it landed with a sound like high-heels clopping on stone, because it was, in fact, landing in the form of someone wearing high-heels upon the stone street.
Arietta Madrigal straightened up her hair with a compact from her purse, and then set off down the alley, a smile on her face and a song in her head. It'd be just a few more minutes before she arrived at the restaurant, and this wonderful evening could begin.
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