( welcome to saltburnt ) [She's woken up in old manors before, the kind where dying, old men have been old and dying in them for generations. It's not where she comes from, but it's the kind of people who are easily tricked into doing what she needs done. Rich people see money, and a lot can be persuaded and looked over. Susie has no qualms with this, and in fact it's what she is good at. Among other things.
But this isn't Halstead or the eleven other estates her father and her have business dealings with. The fact she even has her own room is alarming enough, like she's meant to be here, exist in this kind of opulence. It's not that she can't or can't even see herself, but this is not her place, not where she needs to be, and Susie hates the idea even more that she herself is the object of some sort of game.
She arrives to breakfast as she has before. The rooms are just as opulent and pristine, as if her and likely others haven't tried escaping only to end up here again. Her eyes watch the other 'guests', never unaware of the exits that seemingly get them no where. She pours herself a cup of black coffee, and takes one of the small cups of mixed fruits, still trying to work out who the hell all of these people are and how do they all find themselves at this estate that keeps them in some sort of... time loop like she's in a distorted 90's romcom.]
How long have you been here, do you imagine? [Small talk, maybe, but calculated enough.]
( let them eat cake ) cw: alcohol, potential for nsfw [Susie has a knack for fashion and while she an appreciate an event, all the effort and strategizing that goes into it, she also knows there is likely some sort of point to all this. She does oblige the dress code though, and arrives in a dark burgundy corset outfit with her hair in two braid, volumized out to go with the theme without the gaudy wigs. She does have her own dignity.
Once again she finds herself on the outskirts, a champagne flume in hand. Is it her third or fourth? She can't quite recall at the moment, and while she still feels more a puppet than she is comfortable with, she at least appears far more personable than her typical demeanor. If not found at the edge of the party, still taking surveillance, Susie may also be at the edge of the chess board.
Chess is something she understands a lot better. It might not have been something she grew up playing like some rich kid, but the principles are meant to be the same. Only the rules aren't clearly the same. It doesn't seem to matter if one person is on the board and the second comes to the same square. It is a battle of some sort of physical nature. A deviation to the rules. One she isn't sure she appreciates or not, but is curious enough in her current state of inebriation. When the current game clears, her eyes flick up to the person nearest her.]
Whites or blacks then? I'll take a rook. [She's already stepping onto the board. In all actuality she would prefer the movement of the knight on the board, but she doesn't need the implication either.]
ooc: completely open. m/f or f/f, smut or gen is fine. if you have any questions or want to plot, hmu at xdombillyx
susie glass | the gentlemen
[She's woken up in old manors before, the kind where dying, old men have been old and dying in them for generations. It's not where she comes from, but it's the kind of people who are easily tricked into doing what she needs done. Rich people see money, and a lot can be persuaded and looked over. Susie has no qualms with this, and in fact it's what she is good at. Among other things.
But this isn't Halstead or the eleven other estates her father and her have business dealings with. The fact she even has her own room is alarming enough, like she's meant to be here, exist in this kind of opulence. It's not that she can't or can't even see herself, but this is not her place, not where she needs to be, and Susie hates the idea even more that she herself is the object of some sort of game.
She arrives to breakfast as she has before. The rooms are just as opulent and pristine, as if her and likely others haven't tried escaping only to end up here again. Her eyes watch the other 'guests', never unaware of the exits that seemingly get them no where. She pours herself a cup of black coffee, and takes one of the small cups of mixed fruits, still trying to work out who the hell all of these people are and how do they all find themselves at this estate that keeps them in some sort of... time loop like she's in a distorted 90's romcom.]
How long have you been here, do you imagine? [Small talk, maybe, but calculated enough.]
( let them eat cake )
cw: alcohol, potential for nsfw
[Susie has a knack for fashion and while she an appreciate an event, all the effort and strategizing that goes into it, she also knows there is likely some sort of point to all this. She does oblige the dress code though, and arrives in a dark burgundy corset outfit with her hair in two braid, volumized out to go with the theme without the gaudy wigs. She does have her own dignity.
Once again she finds herself on the outskirts, a champagne flume in hand. Is it her third or fourth? She can't quite recall at the moment, and while she still feels more a puppet than she is comfortable with, she at least appears far more personable than her typical demeanor. If not found at the edge of the party, still taking surveillance, Susie may also be at the edge of the chess board.
Chess is something she understands a lot better. It might not have been something she grew up playing like some rich kid, but the principles are meant to be the same. Only the rules aren't clearly the same. It doesn't seem to matter if one person is on the board and the second comes to the same square. It is a battle of some sort of physical nature. A deviation to the rules. One she isn't sure she appreciates or not, but is curious enough in her current state of inebriation. When the current game clears, her eyes flick up to the person nearest her.]
Whites or blacks then? I'll take a rook. [She's already stepping onto the board. In all actuality she would prefer the movement of the knight on the board, but she doesn't need the implication either.]
ooc: completely open. m/f or f/f, smut or gen is fine. if you have any questions or want to plot, hmu at