#marisol.

It's early. The rising sun paints the sky pink and the sea yellow and it makes for a pretty picture, Laurent thinks, like the landscapes his father would collect and display in their summer homes. He's standing on the Quarter deck, well dressed but lacking his overcoat and hat. He's tied his hair back with a pretty red ribbon, but the curls by his cheeks flutter in the wind and for a moment, Laurent looks as if he belongs in one of those Paintings. A sepia Van Goyen that he could live in forever.

He turns suddenly, a sound on the stairs tears him from his own fantasy and then, Marisol is there. Laurent smiles at her, warm and inviting. "His crew are his family and he cares for them deeply, "Good Morning-" he drawls, out stretching his hand by way of a greeting. The gold on his fingers shines bright in the sunlight, he wears the wealth well. "-Pass any live ones on your way up here? or is everyone still snoring?"

where, oh where could her precious fledgling be; could sense the hunter from miles away from his scent alone.  scanning through sea of bodies and trying to focus on singular voice  -  she remembered the venom he spewed at her before their fight ensued. resonant voice that was strong, yet still held a softness & comfortable tone to it. multiple voices echoed throughout her brain until she truly honed in on the one that struck the cord inside her; shooting gaze on the bullseye on the back of his head as he was seated at the bar. not a shred of worry inside her since he wouldn’t recognize her in this form, but she did wonder how far his abilities had gotten since their last encounter. would he feel that bond between them that she both blessed and cursed him with. corner of lip twitched until it finally stuck and marisol formed a smirk; feet moving on their own as she approached him. sauntering beside him, she got close enough that their arms touched on countertop and shoulders nudged. ❛  mind if i buy you a drink, baby ?  ❜  she said loudly enough over the chatter and music; fixing dark hues on his face that she missed. shame it wasn’t covered in blood like before, but maybe they could get there again.

Getting Iris to shut the fuck up and settle into her sleeping bag for the night had been a battle and a half for Reina — so much so that by the time she decides she’s fought with her daughter enough about it, she wouldn’t mind downing an entire bottle of tequila. She knows Iris is faking sleep when she leaves to find her fiancé but honestly, Reina doesn’t really give a shit. The little girl’s got enough family around her that she’s safe to just lay there until she passes out and honestly, Reina’s a little too nervous to go any longer without speaking to Otto. She’d hung around Caine much longer than she should’ve tonight, and if he’d seen that — well, Reina can only assume the outcome wouldn’t be good. Nothing seems to be off when she does eventually find him, though, and she breathes a little sigh of relief at that, lingering in his presence for about an hour or so anyway, just to make sure. Eventually she does decide she should probably get back to make sure her kid isn’t running barefoot around the community center in her Elsa pajamas, and she’s surprised to find the very opposite when she gets there. The the last person she expects to find with Iris at her cot is Otto’s daughter — reading her daughter a book, no less. “Lying to your mother is something little brats do, Iris,” she interrupts, tsking at the little girl who, after being completely enamored by Marisol’s story, very much does not give a fuck that her mother is calling her a brat. Rolling her eyes, Reina turns to the other woman and gestures toward the book. “She’s supposed to be asleep, I hope she didn’t con you into doing that.”

Truthfully, Reina doesn’t know how to act around Marisol Steel — which is new for her, considering she almost always knows what to do in sticky situations. Having to actually converse with Otto’s daughter isn’t really something she’d taken into consideration when she’d shown up on his doorstep a day ago with her own kids in tow, though, but now that Marisol is around she knows she can’t avoid it. Not only would that be rude, but she can’t imagine it’d go over well by the end of the night. So she makes her way towards the young woman when she sees her standing alone, a tight lipped smile spread across her face as she approaches. “It was nice of you to show up here tonight,” she greets, trying her best not to sound condescing although she’s sure it doesn’t sound that way. “I’m sure your father appreciates the support.”

-Ephie