"Thanks. You mind if I crash there for the night?" Luana asked, tilting her head slightly as she thought. "I need some breathing room for a bit." Yeah, staying with the Wolverines wasn't the best idea anymore. She was already thinking about where she'd have to go in order to survive in the streets. Had her brother still been alive, he'd take her in without hesitation. Then again, if he were still alive, she wouldn't be in her current living state. But, once again, she wouldn't be here if her mother and sister hadn't kicked her out and made the entire family turn on her.
Marx shook her head, smiling a little. "It's alright. I understand," she said before looking up at the casino. She led them off to a side entrance once they finally got over there, one that was closer to the elevator up to the actual rooms. She pushed the door open for Luana, holding it before walking over towards the elevator, punching in the number for their floor
(Gonna be away from home for a while, so I won't respond until I get back. Sorry)
(I is back. That took longer than I thought it would)
Luana followed mutely, looking around curiously. This was quite honestly the nicest place she's been to, and it was quite…odd. She wasn't used to this much display of wealth, being a borderline street rat and all. She was grateful that this stranger was willing to let her stay here for some time while she sorted her living situation out. It just then occurred to her that they had yet to exchange names.
(it's all good)
Finally, the door dinged open, and Marx slipped inside with Luana before pressing the number for their floor in again, just in case. She leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath before sitting up, brushing her hair out of her face a bit. At least the penthouse the band was renting wasn't overly expensive like the rest of the casino, something she was incredibly thankful for
Luana looked around once again, letting out a low whistle. "Nice place. Better than mine." She turned to look at Marx. "You sure it's cool if I crash here? I mean, this is where your band is staying, no?" She didn't know why this stranger was being so accommodating. Past situations similar to this told her to keep her guard up, though she didn't think Marx was that bad of a person. Still, though. Better safe than sorry.
"Of course. We're renting a penthouse because Damien insisted, but it's got more than enough room for a few extra people. Makes me feel a little less bad for walking around such a big place," Marx answered with a shy little grin, turtling instinctively just a little into her bandanna
She nodded. "Cool. Luana Ruiz, by the way. Might as well get that out there." She tugged at her leather vest and buckled pants with distaste, wishing she had brought a spare set of clothes. It was a wonder she had put up with Kade's shit for so long. Really, him dictating her clothing shouldn't have been the last straw. There were multiple things that Luana could list that were way worse than being his little Barbie doll before he tried to bang her. But she was comfortable in her clothes, and her clothes only. Being told what to wear was like what kinds of drinks to get at a bar. She knew what she liked and what she didn't like, so bugger off.
"Marx Lamorak. Hence the, ah…swords," Marx said, smiling a bit sheepishly as she gestured to the sword designs on her tank top and the silver sword necklace hanging from around her neck. She knew it would take a little explaining, probably–after all, the Lamorak name wasn't exactly self-explanatory even if it was the name of a knight of the round table
Luana cocked her head and circled Marx, inspecting her tattoos. She was wanting to get some more, but she didn't exactly have the money to do so. So she settled with admiring others for inspiration and just for the sake of admiring them. "Nice tattoos," she mused softly. "At least the ones I can see, that is." She ran her fingers through her hair lazily, mussing it up even more than it already was.
"O-Oh, ah…" Marx started, but a shyness overcame her as she hid her blush in her bandanna, trying to save her dignity. She wasn't used to having her tattoos complimented, and she would admit, it was a little bit of a weakness she had. Eventually, she swallowed around the lump in her throat, remembering how to speak. "I'd show you the rest, but I can't exactly take my clothes half-off in an elevator," she joked lightly
Luana smirked. "Sure you can," she teased. Just because she wasn't interested in having relationships doesn't mean she can't tease. It was plenty useful for getting what she wanted in certain situations. She stopped her circling and settled against the wall of the elevator, arms crossed over her chest. "I got some myself, but not nearly as many as I wished I had." She wiggled the fingers of her right hand. The tattoos on those fingers connected to the intricate tattoo that took up her entire arm. Her left hand was tattooed as well, but she liked asymmetry, so she kept that arm bare–though she was thinking of getting a tattoo on the left side of her neck.
Marx only blushed more, and for a moment, she panicked a little. What if Luana saw her blushing and asked about it? Or thought she was gross? Sometimes she forgot that a lot of people didn't like that someone like her was into girls, too, something she often forgot since she was traveling with a mostly gay group. "Maybe not in an elevator," was about the best she could do at the moment, response-wise
"Oh, so not an elevator, but you'd strip in any other room?" Luana asked calmly, arching a dark brow. She noted the blush and thought it was more amusing than anything. She barely had to say anything, and Marx would get beat red. Just more fun for Luana. As stated before, she wasn't really into anyone, and she couldn't give two shits about who other people were into. Attraction was attraction, in her opinion.
(I'm thinking of giving Luna glasses/contacts? Like, a secret nerdy side to her that she lets absolutely no one see? Like a history nerd or somethin'. Whaddyou think?)
(ooh yeah, that would work really good with her character)
"N-Not exactly strip, but…I'd show you my other tattoos…" Marx managed to stammer out, bringing part of her bandanna up over her nose to try and hide her bright red face. What had she gotten into, even talking like this in the first place? Thankfully, she didn't have long to freak out, because the elevator finally dinged, signaling they were on the correct floor now
Luana snorted and opened her mouth to say that was pretty damn close to stripping when the elevator saved Marx from that. Unfortunate timing for me, a life saver for Marx. The world is cruel, is it not? She rolled her eyes to herself and waited for the doors to open. She was honestly intrigued to see what kind of tattoos Marx had. Maybe she could draw inspiration from them for her next batch of tattoos.
Marx walked through the door, relieved to be out of that elevator. She glanced around for a moment, briefly trying to remember where the penthouse was before walking down the hall, which for a hotel seemed to have quite a few less rooms in its halls
Luana trailed behind, once again doubting that she should be here. She was way out of her element here. She was a street rat, druggie, and recurring alcoholic with a dead brother and a mother and sister that might as well see her as a walking corpse. Not some musician that can afford a freaking penthouse.
Marx led the way until they stopped at the very end of the hall, and she pulled the key out of her pocket before pushing it into the lock and opening the door to a small but beautiful penthouse suite with a view of the city below. Marx rubbed nervously at her shoulder, gesturing with her other hand. "Home sweet home for now, I guess."
Luana looked around silently, taking in everything. Yup, definitely out of her element. Marx seemed normal enough, until Luana remembered that she was part of a hand that was quite well off and doing just fine. This penthouse, though small, still displayed that wealth, and she wasn't sure how she wanted to feel about that. She had always despised people with money, thanks to the death of her brother, and because they generally see themselves as better than everyone else. But right now…she wasn't sure what to think.
(sorry for dying, I had bad service over the weekend)
"I know it's a lot, I don't like the space either. Too…roomy, you know?" Marx said, sheepishly shrugging as she resisted the urge to turtle into her bandanna once again. As much as the others may enjoy the penthouse for being something usually only the wealthy had, she didn't like it because it made her feel like they were trying to be…above everyone
(It's okay)
Luana nodded and pulled out a toothpick to lightly knaw on. "Yeah, but I can't complain, considering my situation." She turned to look at Marx. "Thanks for letting me stay. Beats the streets, I'll say that."
(sorry for it being short, I'm in class and running out of time)
(It’s all good)
“Yeah, of course. We’ve got plenty of room, and I have a spare bed somewhere,” Marx said. “Do you want a snack or something? There’s junk food in the kitchen and stuff,” she said, leading the way to the rather open kitchen
"Ooo, I'm up for junk food. You got any cake?" she asked, trailing behind Marx with a hungry gleam in her eye. Like the idiotic drunk that she was, she usually spent her food money on beer and liquor. Kade didn't help by demanding a 'tax' from them every month. The more that she thought about his treatment of the group–her especially–the more disgusted with herself she got. How could she let herself be in that sort of situation?