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[poetryslamming]

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[flyingpig]

[ Mel hadn't been travelling for long and but it hadn't been hard for her to uproot her entire life. It hadn't been a bad one, all things considered, but adventure called her name and she chased it with glee. Unlike her gloomy best friend Rex, Mel liked to throw herself into the locations their work took them to. His role as the chosen one to save the world might be some big burden to him, but Mel takes it all as an excuse to enjoy herself. Sometimes she can convince him to come with her when she samples the local culture, usually, she can't. It's okay. That's who he is. She, on the other hand, is an unabashed ray of sunshine and others of a less than friendly disposition are often drawn into her warmth. It's how she made friends easily with Alexa and got invited on a night out.

She doesn't worry for a second about the fact a young girl with legs like trees and arms like pythons might not look pretty as a peach in a lovely pink cocktail dress, hair down for once. The fact she's almost certainly the most dangerous person at least fifty miles couldn't be less obvious with the way she gleefully runs (in heels, nonetheless) to pick Alexa up by the hips and hold her high to greet her when they meet. Who'd guess her adorable little handbag (it's not pink, it's flamingo!) has armaments enough to prove just how dangerous concealed within?

She might have misunderstood exactly the sort of scene Alexa enjoys but does Mel is the sort of person who can have fun anywhere, anytime. ]

Hello, stranger! You're looking good!

[ Sure, she might say that to anyone anytime no matter how they're looking. Doesn't matter. Look at that smile, with the single overgrown tooth slipping past her lip, try to say she doesn't mean it. ]

[poetryslamming]

[ They have agreed to meet in front of Alexa's regular hang out, so that's where Alexa has positioned herself. Far enough away from the entrance that she has a good view of who enters and who leaves, but still close enough to hear the faint notes of jazz hanging heavily, warmly, fucking smoke-like in the air. She's clad in a pair of aesthetically torn jeans, a loose T-shirt (bright baby blue) and her newest purchase, a real leather jacket that cost her parents a small fortune, but who is she to care what she wastes their money on, huh? Standing with her hands shoved into her pockets, she is about to fish out her smokes when Mel appears out of fucking nowhere and tackles her, hugging her so her bones creak. Alexa curses under her breath, but allows it, because she can't really do anything else and besides, Mel is looking so completely adorable in pink notes that contrast how she's shaped her physique. Made herself strong and stronger and stronger yet. Fuck, if Alexa doesn't find it admirable. All of it. She was always a sucker for a girl in pink, yeah?

Fixing herself up a bit after Mel has released her, running a hand quickly through her hair and tugging at her jacket to make it fall in the right folds around her form, Alexa looks up at the other woman and huffs out a laugh. Mel obviously means her compliment and although Alexa honestly doesn't look much different from her everyday get-up, she'll take a compliment where she can get it. God knows, the girls around here aren't too fond of her and wouldn't pay her one even if they were paid to. ]

Nah, you're the pretty one between us right now.

[ And she might not look very sincere with her scowl and her slumping shoulders, but she means every word like it were an oath. Alexa turns her head and glances over at the entrance to the club where a couple of girls she's only slept with once (or twice) glance sideways at Mel skeptically. Bitches. Her hands curl into fists. Ignoring them, though, she turns her attention back to Mel and half-smiles. ]

You better not mind jazz, they're gonna play nothing else until midnight.

[flyingpig]

[ The compliment has Mel break into her usual snorting fit, her hands on her cheeks immediately. The simpler, sweety sort of kind words get to her like that- being called, cute or pretty. She knows she's got a pretty face and if she hadn't devoted her life to becoming the second strongest person to walk the Earth (in her mind that would always be her dear deceased Master Arany), she'd probably have a figure similar to her mother and sisters (i.e hourglass). None of it bothers her. She knows she's adorable and anyone who talks to her for more than five minutes will agree.

It's just nice to hear. She gives one of her wide shrugs. ]

Why's only one of us gotta be pretty?

[ Mel isn't a genius except when it comes to cracking skulls, but Alexa's moment of quickly suppressed anger just from seeing some girls doesn't go unnoticed. It's curious, to her. She can't hold a grudge for more than a hot minute. Didn't seem like it was pleasant so she just didn't do it, in that impossibly straightforward way she had. She doesn't make a thing of it and moves on. ]

Can you dance to it? That's all that matters when it comes to music.

[ As if Alexa doesn't know what dancing is, Mel does a five-second softshoe shuffle preview right there. She's Slavic. She'll dance in the street all she wants. ]