Witch

She was a thunderstorm wrapped in silk.

The golddigger of the upper ring- Julliet's judgemental eyes shot towards the woman in the elegant dress. She didn't do so because of the history behind her lineage, her name or way of living. But more because she didn't respect her way of making money. Especially not because it involved scamming her father out of money with that daughter of hers. The money he made with his own hard work, just so she could continue leaching off of others. She clenched her jaw a little upon watching her make her way through the saloon as she brought her cup of whiskey towards her lips. Her father had no children besides her, that were his words, and his words to her would never ever be a lie. Because if they had been, her childhood would've been far more rose-coloured as it was.

She shook her head a little as she looked away from the trainwreck. Placing her glass on the counter she was sitting at, laying her chin on her head. It wasn't a surprise to her when she heard the woman's heels coming towards her, she digged her nails into her chin a little when the scent of her perfume fragranced the air around her- Morgan Montague, here to undoubtedly give her a hard time because of her fathers' right choices.

+ Morgan

If karma does not get you i fucking will

Much thank Nien x

Darlin' darlin'

doesn't have a problem lying to herself 'cause her liquor's top-shelf

Morgan has seen her, of course she had. The little whence was hard to miss. So out of place. This was a place for fancy folk. Not little upstarts, without a decent name or family connections. But that wasn't why Morgan hated her so much. She, unlike her little Laurie, was actually claimed by that bastard named Alphard. And that was something Morgan just couldn't take. Sure, her daughter's parentage was a little dubious. The raven haired woman could admit that. But Alphard should be grateful for the chance to call such a well-bred child his own. Even if it wasn't really. Morgan narrowed her eyes, as she left her companions behind without a word. The noblewoman made her way across the room, in a clam and regal manner.

Morgan watched her carefully, as all sorts of plans to unleash her wrath on the girl formed in her head. The clicking of her high heels followed the woman as she stepped ever closer to Julliet and her table. Eventually Morgan stopped. She had a half drunken cup of alcohol in her hand. Which she attempted to pour all over the girl. In a very nonchalant manner. Like it was nothing. Which to Morgan it really wasn't. After the drink was emptied, Morgan let it fall to the floor. Causing it to shatter into a million pieces. A light smirk appeared on her lips as she took a step back. "Tsk tsk tsk, you clumsy little girl." She said in a mocking tone. "Look what you just did, making me spill my drink like that - you owe me a new one, you know."

—Hakrabi

She was a thunderstorm wrapped in silk.

As the distance between them narrowed, so did Julliets patience with the woman. Their feud had never been an open one before but yet the women knew exactly what to make of each other with a single glance. As both of them thought of the very same moment weeks ago. Julliet knew how the slut thought of both her and her father, and to put it simply she would not let that slide. However- resorting to violence she would've liked to put off for now, had she been given the choice. But, as her blouse soaked in pouring alcohol, and glass shattered on the floor beneath her feet- her cold angered eyes flashed upward to the bitch. Blood poured from the tiny cuts the shards of glass had made along her lower leg, Morgans words burned their way onto the young Ambrose thoughts.

She chuckled in disbelief, standing upright slowly as her look locked onto that of the woman in front of her. "You did just not do that" she chuckled as lights sparkled upon the lenses of her in anger-coloured darkened eyes. "I am sorry- I thought you were smarter bitch" she pressed as her voice turned sharper, colder. Raising the almost empty glass of whiskey, alongside the corners of her mouth before attempting to break the glass in her face, attempting to hit it with full force. It had a narrative behind it. An English teacher would've loved to analyse this, her hitting the woman with her father's manufactured golden drink.

If karma does not get you i fucking will

Much thank Nien x