Welcome to Hickstead, home to both Seven Oak Stables, and Blue Acre - two rival stables. Both offer opportunities for their clients to reach the highest level of excellence. Each stable differs from the other, so choose wisely and never forget, loyalty is everything... Meanwhile as the stables battle it out, there's trouble brewing at the university. Be careful, if you don't pick a side you may get caught in the cross-fire...
This is an chilled out rpg with a super friendly and relaxed atmosphere! Remember to sign up with your characters full name in all caps and don't forget to do your claims! Thank you and Welcome, we've been established since 10th March 2009 but unfortunately have had to close guest view of our boards due to multiple sites ripping off our hard work, such a shame! Come chat to us in Discord before joining if you like!.
She had clearly forgotten what Zahira had been like over the years of them not talking. It was actually rather annoying, but in this moment, beggars couldn't be choosers. The woman couldn't exactly remember why the cousin before her was considered a black sheep, probably just the fact that she left to go do her own thing, "I prefer you over Dante and Gael." Perdita replied flatly, brown eyes looking past her cousin now to take in the tiny apartment. Didn't look like she had put much decoration into it, but if she was a bounty hunter supposedly, Zahira was probably always on the run - or on guard, by that knife she was holding. The two of them studied each other, and the other young woman made no move to hide that judgement behind her eyes. Perdita could only imagine.
"Excellent." At least there would be whiskey and black coffee, if nothing else, to temper this moment between them, or perhaps the next twenty four hours. There was still a chance that Zahira could reject her, the bond between them was not that strong, and it has become clear that family wasn't always a loyalty. Guess her little cousin played the same way that her half brothers did. Perdita watched as the young woman peered into the hallway before closing her eyes, earning an eyeroll while her back was still turned. She followed after Zahira now, proving once more to be out of touch with the young woman: "Did that make you feel less guilty?" Well - she walked right into that one, "No. Not guilty. Just...annoyed I picked the wrong side of family."
Following her to the kitchen, it looked slightly more alive if not chaotic. The knife was away now, put back into its block and Perdita made no comment. She simply leaned against a small kitchen table now, watching Zahira work her way around between taking out mugs and flipping on a kettle. Then the confirmation came: her baby cousin was bounty hunting, and it had nothing to do with the family. No wonder she considered herself a black sheep, Manuel Delgado probably hadn't been too happy about that, but if memory served her, he also babied Zahira because she was, well, a girl, and no girl ever likes that, "Ah....pays well?" Might as well ask. Brown eyes watched as the whiskey was poured and stirred, then the coffee, and then finally, the mug was handed to her followed by 'the question': "So, you clearly didn't come for a coffee and catch up, what are you expecting from this social call?"
A sigh escaped Perdita, it was bound to come up sooner rather than later, "Good thing you handed me this mug," she said now, as she took a huge sip, before continuing on,"Apparently I wasn't my father's daughter - so I lost my hold on the Ortega family." The woman took another generous sip now, "I need a couch to stay on for a bit."
My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls
Perdita Delgado-Vaughn couldn't believe it even when her brown eyes laid upon the scene. In some derelict building, there was a fight going on before her - a cage match, and there was a substantial crowd. The cheers and jeers were loud, bouncing off the walls. It was shocking the vibrating didn't send the police coming, but perhaps, given the part of town, nobody was here to call. She hadn't been expecting to find this place, the location supposedly changes each night they schedule, yet here she was, at Willow Bridge's Underground Fight Club for lack of a better word. Guess they didn't get the rule about how no one talks about Fight Club.
There were all sorts of people here it looked like, and all sorts of fighters ranging from tattoo and bulky to lean and scrappy. One thing she noticed though, all fighters were men. Woman were just there to cheer. It made her roll her eyes, mainly to herself. Perdita had come here alone, sans either of her three cousins. That was fine. They were still warming up to her, and she didn't feel like pushing it nor felt like walking a verbal tight rope. It felt like that was all what Perdita did as of late, watch her mouth, and it was really starting to bother her. How had she sunken so fucking low since losing it all in Valencia?
Angry now at the thought, she clocked a make shift bar off to the side - serving only god knows what, but that didn't matter. She slinked her way through the crowd, going unnoticed as eyes were too busy on the cage match inside. Making her way to the bar now, Perdita waved down the bar tended and got herself a shot of whiskey. The burn was an ugly reminder. She finished, placing the small glass down with such anger and asked for another. The young woman turned her back now, watching the fight before someone slammed into her, "Hey! Watch it!" Her snap was angry, bitchy. Her temper flared more as she made eye contact with some drunken idiot who thought he could get lucky. He never got a chance. One step in, and she already sidestepped, swing her elbow up high to clock him in the temple before her hand slammed his skull down into the bar, knocking him out.
She watched in satisfaction as body crumbled to the ground, the crowd around them going quiet as she looked up now, "Is any one else going to interrupt my drink?" And just like that, everything went back to normal. Or, as normal as what could be for the situation. Yet, Perdita still felt eyes boring into her from somewhere, and as she took a sip of her shot now, she waited to see if they would make themselves known.
My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls
Brown eyes watched as those gears turned in her best friend's head. It looked as if her words struck a cord, and Violet knew that she was right. What she didn't do however, was voice that confirmation. Such a shame, because Perdita Delgado-Vaughn always loved to hear she was right and crow about it afterwards. Looks like she won't get that satisfaction today, oh well, there was no doubt in her mind that there would be other times ahead, there always would be.
The young woman took a bite of her sandwich, chewing as she listened to Violet confirmed that she'll try her best to find out information on Grey Vaughn. However, just like with this mystery boy, there was more on the other young woman's mind than simply the conversation. Perdita cocked her head, still chewing. Once swallowed though, she spoke, "Thanks. I appreciate it." Her hand reached out, grabbing her cup and taking a sip before going on, "What's wrong at the ranch? You haven't mentioned anything in your texts...think it's going to be sold?"
My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls
As soon as the snort escaped Zahira Delgado - Perdita knew she had made a mistaken and came to the wrong cousin: "You think I'm here because I'm daddy's left ear right now?" Ah, typical Zahira and her bitchy replies. Granted, the older woman knew she should have expected that. It was not surprising to hear the younger woman add on that she and her father were not on speaking terms after her earlier outburst. "My mistake. I went where I was told, and you were first on my list." If matters were different, Perdita might have gotten bitchy right back, but she didn't really have options right now - and for the moment, the Delgados were family that she trusted. Clearly though, the woman would have to brush up on that family drama too since apparently she walked into it.
Brown eyes watched the younger woman now as she informed her of her plight, studying her for any insight into what Zahira may be thinking. She was very good, however, of not letting anything on and appeared to be rather careful with her word choice. A simple and basic 'i see' to fill the void of a reaction. At least her puppy comment got her a reaction, as finally, the young woman stepped back: "By all means, but I'm guessing you're in need for something a bit harder than caffeine." For the first time since knocking on that apartment door, Perdita smiled, "I mix whiskey and black coffee, but I am happy to just take the whiskey or whatever else you may have," she replied now, taking a step forward and crossing into the threshold, "Sounds like I'm not the only one who needs a drink...I'm sorry...that I've been out of touch with you."
Despite their age difference, she still remembered faint childhood memories on the beach with Zahira, along with her siblings Dante and Gael, whom she was closer with in age. Besides, in this world, women had to look out for each other, something that Perdita had neglected to do with Zahira despite being true family, "So, what are you doing in this dinky little town, anyway?" She asked, before nodding towards the back of the apartment now, showing Zahira that she could lead the way - if she trusted Perdita to walk behind her at least.
My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls
Perdita could not help but to arch an eyebrow at her friend's explanation about this guy. They talk. They text. He name drops girls. Truth be told, the older woman didn't see the issue, and thought that Violet Olson may be reading too much into the situation. But her friend was also stubborn, and maybe was only willing to believe what her imagination allowed. Perdita cocked her head, brown eyes glancing up to the ceiling as she mulled over her words, trying to figure out the best way to deliver her thoughts. "Vi," she started now, her gaze moving back to the young woman, "Devil's advocate moment - maybe he is simply friends with girls like, how you, on occasion, have more guy than girls as friends." She wasn't sure what Violet's gender ratio looked like now as far as friends went, but she knew back when they first met, it tended to skew male due to work.
She took a sip of her coffee, her gaze flickering to movement from behind the barista counter as she clocked their sandwiches on the move before returning her attention to Violet, "I appreciate it. But I'll try and keep myself in my cousin's good graces for as long as I can." While she loved Vi dearly, as a ranch hand, she was certain the young woman either bunked with people or had very small quarters which Perdita would not want to impose on. Plus, if she was having boy issues, perhaps it was best to stay out of hte way when it came to a room with a bed, "Is Tenaya your friend?" Either way, it was another lead into another insight, "Irreguardless, if you can find out what you can - I appreciate it. Grey was...hostile with me. And I can't imagine he's going to change any time soon," she said with an annoyed sigh now.
As the sandwich plate was put in front of her now, Perdita unfolded her legs and put down her coffee now to bring an end to the sandwich's life now, and could only hope, it didn't look like a total massacre in front of Vi.
My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls
It was funny - for how loud the club and the bar was, Perdita felt as if the world was quiet because all what she could see and hear was the woman before her. Her brown eyes never strayed from the gorgeous woman, not even to order her drinks. Her sly smile deepened at the words coming from the other woman's mouth now, "Lady Luck is on your side like she is mine." Perdita replied, and she might have foolishly gone one if it weren't for the lankly woman leaning over to her now. Something in her stirred, and she did her best to keep her gaze up as lips brushed against her ear: "Penelope.” Hot and sticky breath tingled her ear, and sent a shiver down her spine. Perdita Delgado-Vaugh may be a dead woman tonight.
The shots and drinks were place down on the bar now, snapping the woman out of her fantasies as Penelope pulled back now, acting as nothing had happened, "Penelope, huh?" She mused out loud, allowing the name to roll with each syllable, "I like the way it sounds on my lips. I hope you give the the opportunity to say it more." Brown eyes watched as the girl drank her tequila shot in one swoop and made it look rather effortlessly, "Cheers, indeed." Perdita replied with a smile now, as she took her shot and dropped it into the large glass now - making a splash and watching the contents fizz. She brought the glass to her lips and took a long sip before asking, "So, Penelope, what brings you to this establishment? Hoping to dance the night away or are you looking for more?" It was awfully forward of her to ask, but it was hard to not be. Penelope was a beautiful woman, and Perdita had never been shy about stating want she wanted.
My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls
"I don't think you should be jealous," Perdita lamented, pausing as the barista came over to place the large saucer containing her latte in front of her. Chocolate brown eyes watched them for a moment, before smiling and offering a wink before they walked away. Her gaze lingered for a moment before her gaze returned back to her friend now, "And it seems I cannot escape it. What's that saying you Americans have? Out of the fire and into the fry pan?" Perhaps it was the other way around - it didn't matter though, because as her gaze fell on Violet, the girl appeared lost in her own thoughts.
She sat on the seat with her feet up on it, knees to her chest - the classic Violet Olson stance when something was on her mind. It amazed the older woman that she managed to drink coffee like that, "So?" Perdita inquired now, and it wasn't long before the younger woman unloaded her thoughts onto her. She listened digitately while sipping on her latte now. The vendetta about horses comment could not help but to make her smile wryly, "Well, I for one do not see a problem with a vendetta against horses..." although, this was Vi she was talking to, the cowgirl extraordinaire. Placing her latte back down though Perdita adjusted herself in her seat, "In all seriousness though, have you just...talked to him? Maybe he feels the same way if you two hang out so much."
Talking about feelings had never been her thing, she just took want she wanted and went on her way. She had actually thought Vi had been the same way, until now that is. Perdita never had seen her like this before. It was...strange. But the woman would not judge her, if this was really the boy she wanted to die on the hill for, then so be it. Clearly she still had to sort it out though. Chocolate brown eyes blinked as new questions were directed back at her though, "Oh. I'll be here for a while. I'm crashing on one of my cousins' couches at the moment - trying to figure out my own life I guess." She thought for a moment before something dawned on her, "Hey. You know horses. Do you know a Grey Vaughn? He does...feet things for them."
My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls
When Grey had pointed out that life wasn't exactly simple when one had a bounty on their head, the vaguest of memories popped into her head. That's right, there had been a bounty on him. In all of the bewilderment to discover that she had half siblings thanks to her real father, and then the excitement of figuring out where one was, the rest of the information had been chucked out of her brain, "Oh, right. Well, I'm not a bounty hunter." But her cousin was. Best to not bring that up, not today at least. Her mouth did twist in thought though, wondering if Zahira somehow had the connections to make that disappear. Note to self, Perdita thought.
It was funny listening to Grey bitch to her now about his own half of the family, given that he had displayed a complete disinterest in her own bitching. Whatever, she could let him bitch about his father and Sarah. Perhaps what bothered her more was that she hadn't figured out their whereabouts even though it had been so simple - per Grey that is, "So, what you're saying is don't bother." Perdita didn't know what to think of that, it was rather annoying to discover that the other half of her genetics came from a drunken gutter rat and that her adoptive father had been truly the best of everything. A frown sat on her face, "What did my mother see in him then..." It was more for her own musings than Grey's, he'd just say something insulting.
Rounding back on dark histories though, a sigh escaped her, "Well, that's disappointing. I thought that since you were so connected, well, I guess no longer, but I thought our father would have been the same way." So, the woman was going to be on her own unless she could sway Grey. Chocolate brown eyes stared at the man across from her, looking utterly indifferent to her. It was frustrating, how differently they were treating this situation. Perdita had lost everything, while Grey had lost nothing as far as she was concerned, "Well, good thing I found you first then and not them." What did he have to loose though? Surely not this truck and trailer.
She noticed how his brow raised at her offer to help, and he went on to explain his business. And then mentioned how he still had ten horses to do. Perdita kept her face mutual, shit, that was not the type of work she was offering to help with. But damnit, she wasn't going to back down now, especially if this was an attempt to get to know him, "I can help," Perdita reiterated stubbornly, "How hard can it be to hold a horse for you?"
My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls
As the hug broke, and Violet announced that she had quite the doozy of a guy to talk about, the woman couldn't help but to wryly smile and arch her eyebrows, "A doozy?" Perdita nodded towards the entrance of the café, "Well, I cannot wait to hear this then. Nobody fucks with my spiritual little sister." The story and boy in question probably did not need that, and that Violet just needed an ear to talk to for sorting everything out, but given everything that had been going in Perdita's own life, it would be nice to hear about the drama in some one else's - even if it was simply romantic.
And just like that, the younger woman was hooking her arm around hers' and leading her inside, "Ah, well you know me, I'm always a sucker for coffee and food." And while the woman was normally one for black coffee, hanging out with a friend might qualify something a little extra. The quaint little shop was rather empty, but it smelled utterly heavenly. Her mouth was already watering, "Large Spanish Latte and the Open Face Italian Chicken Sandwich please." As the cashier took their order and Violet's money before walking off to get started on the coffee, Perdita couldn't help but to tease her friend, "You still have not outgrown those teenage girl drink orders?"
Brown eyes gazed around the café before seeing a nice booth in the corner, perfect for privacy for both of them. Snatching the order number off the counter, Perdita then grabbed the young woman by the hand, "Come, let's go sit. I want to hear all about this boy. As for myself, I am having...family drama. That's why I am here instead of Spain." Perdita wouldn't mind telling her friend an abridged version of her plight, the one without all of the mobster connections. It might help but to have a true sympathetic friend listen to her given the relocation and her efforts thus far of winning her half brother over had been rather flat.
My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls
He really liked to go for the whole cold and callous look, she would give him that. Perdita supposed it was a look that had served her half brother well during his time in London. It did however, make her ponder, if that look was permanently glued to his face, then how on earth could he carry on simple relationships such as friendship or even romance? To her, Grey did nothing more then give the impression he just hated everyone and everything, to include her. Along with that, he voiced his own opinion that he didn't care what she felt. Dark brown eyes rolled, "Really? You're the one who was ready to brandish a knife earlier in our conversation." And yet, Perdita was certain that she knew what his answer would be: I don't care.
To Grey's credit, he shockingly let her rant to her little heart's content without any interruption but perhaps it was simply because he found her childish verses actually caring. Somehow, the young woman was willing to believe it was the former. It was beginning to dawn on Perdita that maybe there was a reason that Sarah Vaughn was hard to find - because clearly, they all were crazy. And then came the follow up question: Why? Why was she here? Perdita supposed that that was the million dollar question, because truth be told, she was certain either. Yes, she was curious, it was hard to not be. There was a whole half a family that she never knew about, not really, and after the 'adopted' half for a lack of better word, turned out to be a piece of power hungry shits, then perhaps she thought, the Vaughns would be different.
Yet, it was becoming clearer and clear, that they, or at least, Grey Vaugh, would be just as unwelcoming to her as her own Ortega half siblings. Grey wasn't done with his questions though, or his attempts, to possibly make her feel like shit. Dark brown eyes narrowed as he continued to talk, ignoring that constricting feeling coming up in her throat and the burning feeling in her eyes. She would not cry. Mobsters don't cry. Only the weak cried and showed any emotion other than anger. Vulnerability was earned, and Grey clearly didn't have it earned. He didn't want it either. The man simply wanted to chase her off, just like the Ortegas did to her out of Spain. Maybe it was good that the Delgados come through to her because her cousins might just be the only ones who truly end up being her family.
She crossed her arms, and leaned her shoulder into the wall, casually standing there to avoid feeling rigid, even though her body wanted to fight it. Breathe in, breathe out, "You're right," Perdita said flatly, "I did loose everything. My mother and adopted father have been dead for a while. But my half siblings pushed me out, so I have nothing to go back to." Other than to reclaim an Empire, but that was a long game, and that might be on the back burner until she could figure her shit out. Perdita carried on, "As for Sarah, I couldn't find her. You were the easiest to track down, simple as that." But why did she want him? Deep down, was it that she wanted to be loved instead of feared? The young woman didn't know, and that was a question she didn't want to deal with right now, "As for...Aiden...I don't know." It felt too silly to call someone else 'father' when he hadn't wanted to deal with her and her mother.
At least he agreed to the DNA test, if nothing else, Perdita wanted to prove a point to his stubborn ass. But it was curious how he told her that he had stuff to do. The young woman cocked her head, "Stuff to do? What kind of stuff?" Surely, it was stuff that he deemed none of her business, and Perdita was already prepared to have that thrown back in her face, "Maybe I can help you..."
My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls
It would seem that the other woman had the same first instinct as her, the need to bitch someone out for spilling their drink on her shoes, yet when her dark eyes met Perdita's own, she saw the look on her face switch from one of pure anger to playful within a matter of seconds. They were both coy predators, sizing each other up to see who would become the meal first. A challenge that Perdita did not mind. The brunette's words felt like a purr against the wild atmosphere of EDM and club lights, "Oh, owe me? We can see how the night plays out and maybe I'll know," Perdita replied, knowing fully well what she wanted out of the woman, but she could be a lady. She wasn't going to be like some panting horn dog who couldn't keep it together, "You don't owe me a -" But before she could finish her sentence, the woman turned.
Perdita's dark chocolate eyes took a passing glance over the woman's body as her attention turned away, making it easy to sneak a peak. Tight, wiry, and taunt - like she had energy to burn and didn't know what to do with herself. Her dress also did her a solid, shaping up all the right places and pushing certain assets up to display. The back was just as suggestive now as Perdita followed after her, like a sailor following a siren's song to a dangerous, watery grave. It was strappy, criss crossed, and revealing to the fact that the dress was providing all of the support and nothing else. The woman bit her lip, a reminder to keep it together, as she sidled up next to the woman now who was placing her order, making sure that their arms grazed each other - as if it were a casual mistake as continued her order, "Two Vegas Bombs, butterscotch, not peach."
Her gaze returned to the woman now, meeting her gaze, "You can call me Perdita," she commented now, "And what may I call you since you must have a name?"
My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls
Perdita heard the muttering from beyond the door in front of her. It would appear that she may have awaken her cousin, which came to no surprise. While she could not make out of the words of the young woman, it was clear that she was not happen with having her rest disturbed. Well, tough luck for her. Given her circumstances, it was hard to have any sort of sympathy at the moment. Perdita felt her impatience grow by the minute - what on earth was she doing in there? Putting on make up? Finally though, she heard footsteps right on the other side of the door and decided to make herself known. The woman let her words hang in the air, and sure enough, the bolts to the door unlocked and reviled her cousin: one Zahira Miran Delgado.
A perfectly manicured eyebrow arched as she stared at the knife in her cousin's hand. Zahira grasp on it appeared relaxed, but still retained enough tension to go into action. Well, what a way to great a family member. Perdita supposed it was called for though, it was hard to trust outsiders to an immediate family, and its not as if she herself had the most trusting of personality or record. "Perd?" Zahira eyebrows were raised as well, "What the fuck are you doing here?" The question could not help but to make her scowl. Why was it that everyone seemed so surprised and caught off guard to see her? It was getting really annoying at this rate. Perdita cocked her head now, "Did your parents not tell you?" After all, it was Zahira's very parents that informed her of where her cousins were, "I...I lost my hold on the Ortega Family." The bitterness in her voice was sharp enough to cut through a piece of wood, "One of my brothers is in control...one of my...half brothers." God, even saying it out loud only made her bitterness grow, "Can I come inside? Or are you going to keep me out here like some beaten puppy?"
My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls
She had needed out of the flat. It felt tiny, suffocating, and Zahira was out doing god knows what with her bounty hunting job. Probably torturing some lucky and yet poor soul. So that left no one but her to entertain herself and those four white walls - no wonder people bounced off of the walls when they were alone. So Perdita left, figuring that she would forge her own path and adventure for the night, refusing to be suffocated by the normal life. The woman knew if she just sat there, she'd make herself crazy thinking about everything that she could have done to prevent where she was now.
The night was young for her - when she had been in Spain, prior to taking over her family, she used to party all night until five am and the clubs had kicked her out. Hickstead surprisingly was home to two night clubs: the Luna Longue and the R&R Night Club. The former felt a little too sophisticated for what Perdita had in mind for her night to end though, so she made her way to R&R now. Her little black ensemble would get her through the door no problem, and sure enough, she had been allowed to cut through the line and plunge into darkness and neon lights, Swedish House Mafia alive and well over the speakers and dance floor.
Sauntering her way to the bar, she was quick to order some neon colored drinks, downing them one by one. Brown eyes searched the crowds, looking for a victim to her whims, but so far. Everyone looked utterly disappointed. A sigh escaped her, as she took herself another shot glass and figured she'd wander to someone's table and invade. Perdita took a step back, not looking, and collided into someone. While the drink avoided her dress and the other's outfit as well, the same could not be said for their shoes as the drink sloshed out and hit the ground. The woman frowned deeply, her brown eyes flickering up to the face of this person now, ready to glare daggers.
Instead, she found herself staring at some gaunt, bean pole of a girl, who was so pale, she might as well glitter in this lighting like one of those vampires. Perdita stared, and instead of bitching her out, she did the complete opposite. She apologized, "I'm sorry," she said now, a playful yet dangerous grin dancing across her lips now, "Can I buy you a drink?"
My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls
Hickstead was not panning out the way she thought it would in her head. She thought she'd be welcome with open arms by everyone, to include her half brother, but that seemed to be far from the case and it felt just so...unfair. Perdita had been lucky that Zahira had welcomed her with open arms - but she was part of the Delgado Family, bloodlines and loyalty ran strong with them. These feelings of lonelyness were new to the woman, she was not used to feeling like this. Yes, people had feared her in Valencia, but somehow, she had never felt lonely even when she had been on top. The woman had taken comfort in their fear and loyalty, but now that was gone and out here in Hickstead, it was beginning to become apartment just how truly she was alone.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You're better than this," she muttered under her breath, her words biting in Spanish. What was this? What was with her? Wallowing like some gutted, pathedic animal. She wasn't dead yet, in fact, she was far from dead. Picking her chin up, Perdita already met her resolve for the day and stormed her way down high street. Maybe she'd get herself a nice charcuterie board and coffee from one of these local, hipster cafe's. But she never made it into that shop, because she heard an unexpected and yet familiar voice cut through the air like a knife, "Perdita Fortuna Delgado-Vaugh! You fucking bitch!" She stopped dead in her tracks. No way. It couldn't be. She turned just slightly and looked over her shoulder. Oh, but it was.
A smile plastered across her face, "Violet Olson?! Bitch! What are you doing here?" She ignored the looks for the colorful language that both women used. Departing the doorway from the cafe, Perdita speed walked over to the young woman, cutting the distance between them and threw her arms over her in a powerful hug. Some higher being must have been listening to her. She pulled back, staring at her, "Girl. I thought you'd be in Arizona making out with some rodeo heart throb." What was she doing here? It was strange, jarring almost, to see Violet here, but perhaps the same could be said about Perdita. The last time she saw Violet was on her United States turf, Perdita had been there doing some unsavory work which she kept in the dark with her young friend - she didn't need to be exposed to that. But it was so funny seeing her here now.
My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls