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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
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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
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"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
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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
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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."
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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
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(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
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"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?
"Yeah, we've got some in the fridge, Kaden's kind of a glutton. He gets super weird cravings though, so I hope you like German chocolate," Marx said, making her way over to the fridge with a soft hum as she did so, having to step up a few small stairs just to even get into the kitchen
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"I like whatever's edible, " she said, sighing softly to herself as she continued to trial after Marx. She felt like an intruder, but what could she do? Marx had brought her here and let her stay. Well, she could be a bitch and hightail it out of there. But that wouldn't be right, and she couldn't do it in good conscience–Marx was being too nice for her to bail.
Marx opened the fridge, which was mostly empty save for beers, sodas, and a large german chocolate cake. But when she pulled it out, she made a noise of confusion when she found that the top had been covered in all manner of sprinkles. Slowly, she shook her head before setting it on the counter and going to get a paper plate. "Do you care that there's sprinkles? I can cut them off if you want," she said, pointing at the cake with a butter knife
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She shrugged. "It's food, however nasty sprinkles are." She curled her nose, half playfully and half in slight disgust. "Your bandmates have interesting tastes, " she commented.
"It's mostly just Kaden. He tends to eat a lot when he's high, and he's high a lot," Marx chuckled, shrugging as she cut a piece off for Luana. She was more of an ice cream person herself, so she just put the cake away when she finished and went to grab a plastic fork from a box nearby. "Here you go," she said, handing the other the plate and fork
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Luana grabbed the plate and fork with a 'thanks,' holding the plate in one hand while she stabbed the cake with the other. This small action showed that she was left-handed, something most people never really picked up on because she did a lot with both hands. It was an insignificant detail about her, but a detail nevertheless that sometimes bothered her–like writing, for example. Another detail that was bothering her was her contacts. They were starting to bother her eyes at the worst time possible. She could feel them slowly drying out, but she didn't have her glasses–nor did she want to put them on in front of Marx. She'd see her as a nerd. Blech.
Marx set the cake back in the fridge, exchanging it for a bottle of rootbeer she had stowed away inside. All of the band members liked soda when they didn't have an excuse to drink actual alcohol, but Marx wasn't much of a drinker to begin with. She twisted open the cap, doing her best to make sure that the bandanna still hid her neck as she took a quick swig
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Luana finished her piece of cake in an embarrassingly short amount of time. She licked her lips and glanced over at Marx with curiosity. "What's with the bandanna? Not saying it's weird or anything–I actually think it's pretty cool–but I was just curious as to why you have it."
"O-Oh, uh…" Marx started, but trailed off, suddenly unable to figure out an excuse. Eventually, after a few moments of thought, she came to the brief conclusion that she would likely never see Luana again, and that the other wasn't interested in the band, so she wouldn't exactly leak info. "I, uh…I have an injury there. Had. The scar is really nasty, so I don't show it," she answered simply
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Luana cocked her head. "Huh. Well, it adds a little air of mystery about you, so that's cool." She didn't judge Marx for her injury. She had plenty of cuts on her wrists and marks along her arms from needles.
“That’s, ah…An interesting take on it,” Marx said, sheepishly playing with a stray piece of hair. At least Luana hadn’t asked to see it or something, because she wasn’t sure how she would get out of that one
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She shrugged and offered a crooked smile. "Well, I'm an interesting person." She leaned against the counter and folded her arms over her chest, looking around in both curiosity and an itch to snoop. It wasn't every day that she could get a sneak peek into the life of a band.
The penthouse itself hadn't exactly been changed much, but there were certainly signs of life, as well as multiple instruments strewn about here and there. Marx kept her own drums far away from the main area out of fear they'd be damaged, as well as saving the sound equipment for when the assistant came to help with mixing for concerts and such
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"Question: When are your bandmates coming back? I'd rather stay away from them for as long as humanly possible." Luana arched a brow in Marx's direction after she had scanned the penthouse.
"Oh, uh…Well, they'll probably be back early in the morning, if at all. It kinda looked like they'd all pass out at the bar from the state of them before," Marx said, shrugging a little as she took another sip of her soda
