(Open) Roses, a Sneezy Kitty Make

[Pixie Styx]

Sly sneezed as the scent of roses surrounded them as they entered the restaurant. Her furry companion's 'emotional support animal' vest a bright but calming blue. He sneezed once more then glared at her as only a feline could, and rubbed his face on her arm. Daisy ignored him with a well practiced eye roll. Instead focusing on the simple elegance, and natural beauty that certainly took her breath away, she stood in awe, nearly gaping at the sight that greeted her. Glad that she decided to stop by as she passed on foot. Recalling that Green had told her that he thought Spring gathered either here, or the Quicksilver Gate. Even if this was not Spring's primary location within the Freehold, well, Daisy could see herself making a point in dinning here as often as she could get away with. Sly sneezed again. Daisy absently scratched him behind the ear. She might leave him at home next time though.

It was raining. Lightly, but raining, so Daisy was lead up to the balcony instead of the patio. The Rose Garden was just getting better and better. Daisy thought, her wide black eyes darting every-which way attempting to glance upon every detail as she was brought to her table.

"Every single week." the Artist murmurs softly, but not softly enough, and receives another feline glare. Daisy pats the cat fondly and attaches his leather leash (attached to his harness) to the chair. She smiles sweetly. They are in public and cat's can't talk. The glare intensifies, but the wizened orders tea, as her attentions are drawn towards the menu, and away form the sulking cat.

OOC

Ack! I've been so focused on Nell that I've been neglecting Daisy! I must remedy this at once!

[Coco]

Oh, and what was this? A surprise, and in a place that had become so familiar that it was now almost banal. Funny, how that could happen at a restaurant when you'd already tried everything on the menu. Not that there wasn't anything to say for the comfort of familiarity, but even the most comfortable of beds caused sores were one to lie in it too long.

So, if nothing else, it looked as though this wouldn't be a boring meal, Coco thought as she approached the stranger's table, the tap of her cane and the squeak of rain sodden shoes heralding her approaching.

"Would you mind if I took this seat?" the Wasp asked, her right hand already landing possessively on the back of the chair across from Daisy. "I do see that you already have company," she observed, nodding towards the ink dark feline, "but I sadly don't, and you don't appear to be someone that would cruelly turn a poor, sodden stranger away."

A description which was quite apt. Coco had chosen to take the bus and then walk to the restaurant, uncaring of the rain, and even now droplets of water fell from the tips of her antennae and hair.

"Well, not poor, I suppose," she amended with a poignantly detached air. "I'll pay for your meal, if you wish."

[Pixie Styx]

The porcelain fawn knew she was staring. Her wide black eyes taking in the sodden, but still elegant women before her. Her fingers itching to dig into some clay. Or at least onto the colored pencils in her purse.

"By all means, go ahead," Daisy says with an absent smile, her eyes still taking in the lean lines, that everyone saw, and the insect additions that only a select few did. The rain scent they had brought in with them mixing with the fresh grass and flowers of the wasp's Spring mantle, it was almost enough for Daisy to forget that it was Sacramento's drizzling winter just outside.

At the wasp's comment, Sly glared up at the two women, and curled tighter in a ball under the chair. "Oh yes, this little guy is Sly." At the introduction the feline flicked his tail out in annoyance. The rose scent, the wet-wet rain drying upon his fur, and Daisy's continued butchering of his name! Did not a happy kitty make. "I am Daisy,"

Daisy laughs lightly, mischief sparking within the depths of her wide pitch black eyes, "Well if you are to pay for my meal, then I suppose I shall pay for yours."

[Coco]

Unexpectedly, Coco found a smile tugging at her lips as she sat across from the ceramic beauty and the Wasp took a moment to look Daisy over. The porcelain skin Coco had seen before, but the delicate antlers that parted the jade curtains of Daisy's hair and her eyes, which could make onyx seem lusterless, marked her, and the Wasp found that she had to refine her initial impression. The woman across from her, and her little cat, too, were not just any surprise, but one she'd long remember.

How she'd remember Daisy, however, the Wasp did not yet know.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Daisy," the Claviger began. "You may call me Coco, if you wish. Or Cosima, if your dislike of contractions extends to proper nouns."

A small smile appeared, close cousin to a smirk, though not quite.

"I have to say, I love your fragrance, but I can't quite place the season. I know it wasn't last seasons, and I assume it isn't current, but beyond that I'm not sure."

[Pixie Styx]

Much like Sly on a good and properly dry day, Daisy preens under Cosima's scrutiny.

"The pleasure is mine." she recite by route. Noting the arch of Cosima's brow, tracing the line of her nose with her pitch black eyes. "I think I shall be calling you Cosmia, at least until acquaintances has the chance to blossoms into friendship." She says with a bright smile. Her finger tracing the forms she noted upon the table, then works on where the shadow of Cosima's antennae would lay upon her face."It's not the contractions, but the...lack of formality I've discovered on this side," Daisy of course meant this side of the millennium, but knows that her comment might be taken to mean of the hedge. "of the pound." she finishes with a playful smirk.

"Oh my fragrance?" she questions, her plum blossoms swirling around her. "Oh you are quite right. This isn't from last season, nor from this one, but the next over. As I assume your's is as well." she says with a playful wink, delicately scenting the scent of fresh grass.

"Miss Cosima, what would you recommend?" Daisy asks, gesturing to the menu, but her tone sets implications onto other endeavors and whatever else the Fairest thought to recommend.

[Coco]

Had she imagined it? Had the elegant woman's words truly shaded a more sensual activity? Or was it just a figment alighted in her mind, fed by the fuel of poets long dead and their words of feverish pursuit after the most metaphorical of deer. Or, perhaps it as simply the fact that they were both Courtiers of the Antler Crown.

Thus it was doubt tainted desire that rose in Cosima, though she did not wish to show it. Not until she could be sure, so instead she merely retrieved the menu and flipped it open before presenting back to Daisy.

"It depends," she began, "on what suits your sensibilities, madame. There's an excellent salad of brussel sprouts, grapefruit, and smoked tofu. Rich, and succulent, though not heavy. Or, if you're looking for something more toothsome, they do serve an excellent braised lamb. Not to mention, of course, the wide variety of pasta if you're looking for something...with a softer texture."

The Wasp's faceted eyes studied Daisy carefully as she spoke, searching keenly for any sign of rebuke.

[Pixie Styx]

Cosima's multifaceted eyes stare at her for a long moment. Though their nature inherently makes it so that any emotion, or truth of the reasons why remain hidden unless Daisy seriously considered penetrating their shroud.

Had her tone suggested something more than what she meant? Had her hidden implications suggested something to Cosima that she didn't want to entertain? Or had it been something else? They are both of the Emerald Court, it shouldn't be a surprise that they each have separate wants, Desires...Daisy wonders after Cosima's hesitation, but smiles softly.

Everyone had their own histories, Daisy knew that truth with more certainty than most.

"Hmm...that is very true." Daisy's eyes a drawn toward the menu once more, setting aside the subtle implications, and double entendre. At least for the moment. "I think the pasta, an alfredo? I don't suppose Sly would ever forgive me were I to order the lamb when he cannot partake."

Sly thumbed his tail on the ground in agreement.

"Yes, an alfredo..." she says once more tapping the item on the menu.

Then as if it were but an afterthought, though in truth it was anything but, "One day. Soon. I would love for you to model for me."

[Coco]

Coco shifted in her seat, crossing legs clad in rain spattered jeans and observing Daisy out of the corner of her for a moment or two. The Wasp was fairly certain, now, that she hadn't imagined the subtle insinuation, yet she was not yet free of doubt. She'd been oft disappointed by the path laid by her assumptions, yet more than that, Coco wasn't sure if was truly ready for anything beyond a platonic exchange. Catherine's abrupt farewell, Vivians rejection...both wounds were still crusted with dried blood. Better that Coco pay heed to patience and bide her expectations. Besides, Daisy had already admitted a desire for formality. If nothing else, the decadent art of politesse would serve to confirm or deny her suspicious. Even if Daisy, like Catherine, asked her to undress before an easel...

"I would be glad to serve as muse for you, though I'm curious, in what medium do I inspire you?" the Wasp inquired with the arch of a brow. "Is it a passion that you've long labored under, or a more recent bud that, now tended, has begun to bear creative fruit?"

[Pixie Styx]

Daisy wonders after what shadows lie behind Cosima's multifaceted eyes, not to poke and prod at possible wounds, but for color compositions. The bright vibrant colors of Spring. Shadows playing the sharp contrast of black and whites. The Artist half wishes to preserve this moment in time. The false red of her hair, spiking together, while gleaming rain droplets falling until they spatter against the table or the ground. The compelling nature of her multifaceted eyes, the sway of her antennae.

A bright smile blossomed as soon as Cosima agreed to play as her muse.

"Recently I've started dabbling in watercolor. I love the way it reacts, but for so long my favored medium has been clay-sculpture. When I was a little girl...all I ever wanted to be was an Artist." Daisy's lips twist into a bitter smirk. It takes her a moment to temper her expression. "When I was but a girl-child, it had been moving the clay around. Then I grew older...and it became..." her pauses heavy with terrible memory and full of weighty emotion.

Sly rose from his prone position to curl himself around Daisy's leg, offering his own silent comfort. "Well," she began after turning her fingers to pet the still rain-slick fur of her friend, "as I try to broaden my horizons, it seems that I am always drawn back to sculpture. For you my dear," Daisy slips, forgetting herself in the moment, more focused on looking upon the woman across from her, “I think..." quick pencil lines. the sharp contrast of simple black ink. colors blossoming. "paint. I would like to see your lines upon a canvas. Though. If I were to take photographs of you, I doubt you’d wish to sit still that long, I would sculpt you. In a heartbeat.”

[Coco]

"Ah, well then, in that case I'm glad I agreed to help pollinate your latest creation," Coco replied, something approaching an honestly amused grin coaxed out by Daisy's enthusiasm.

"And I wouldn't mind sitting. Provided, of course, you wouldn't mind conversing as you worked."

Needless to say, it would be incredibly boring otherwise. Though...for some odd reason the thought of enduring through the silence didn't strike her as unpleasant. Perhaps it was because, even though such an experience promised silence, it also promised something else too: company. A connection. Something far, far beyond sex that she knew she desired more.

"Though perhaps we could start some of that conversation now. You mentioned the time when you were a girl-child." A small touch of amusement appeared along with the quaint phrase. "Tell me, during that time, what was your favorite game to play?"