Autumn laughed, a lilting, melodic, love-or-hate-it sound. She grinned, running a finger along the rim of a glass mug that now sat before her. Who knew and who cared how it got there? She smiled, shaking her head and chuckling as her head bowed over the drink, her soft hair cascading over her shoulder to shield her face but not her trembling shoulders. Oh god, oh god. She was going to have to complete stupid, boring as missions before she had any chance of living? Well, that was nice. Hey, at least it's jewellery, she told herself.
"Okay," she said. Autumn lifted her head
And froze.
Her father - Niklaus von Duerr - was, at one point, the President of Germany. Of course, not everyone approved of his rule. During Christmas when all her family would gather and when Annetta was but seven, a terrorist group who disapproved of her father murdered them all. Annetta - not Autumn, but Annetta - was left for dead, after she herself was both physically and sexually assaulted. She learned something, after a year of hospitalisation and more of absolute misery, she learned control was given to those who sought it and that her body was a shell. If she slept with enough people, she would forget, that sex ever equated to horror, and that it was ever forced from her. Caring for people who would sooner die than live was foolish, so she never did. Care, that was. And she succeeded for the most part, being a materialistic bimbo sex-crazed bitch generally helped with that.
Her emerald eyes stared into amethyst orbs set in a lovely face and framed by light blonde locks. The corners of her lips lifted into a slow smile as she gazed at him in the practiced way that she looked at everyone who was that attractive or more, through the thick curtain of her dark eyelashes, suggesting much in a single look. She would have him. She would have them all.
I hope their clothes can be taken off, she thought grimly.
Autumn's eyes swept the room in a sweeping gaze - practiced, as everything of hers was - that was part nonchalance, part boredom. She tilted her head at the other female, swirling her fingertip on the rim of the glass cup in a quick movement, resulting in a clear, ringing sound through the room. The hotel seemed to still, or maybe she lost track of everything else. No, that was a lie. She was always observant and attentive, however clueless she might look. Autumn ran her gaze along the small frame of the other female - Immortal Obstacle? Immortal Octopus? Immigrant Piranha? Yeah, Immy would be her name. She was quite the pretty girl, with soft hazel eyes and brown hair she would've loved to tangle her fingers in. Her spectacles were just... Cute. Immy was a challenge, being the definition of Adorable Nerd.
Challenge accepted.
"The ring!" the manager repeated, slapping his hands together as he had before. Yeah, yeah, Autumn thought, giving the manager a mental wave-off.
"Bitch, do I look like your servant?" she said lazily, rolling her eyes and leaning back against the table.
"Bitch?" the manager asked, as if he did not have the word in his list of understood-words. "Thank you so much for searching for the ring!" he announced.
"Okay!" Autumn said cheerily, slapping her palms together as the manager had done. God, excitement was contagious. After a few moments of smiling with the manager, a corner of Autumn's lip twitched away from the smile. "Umm... Do we get a clue? No? Okay. Jewellery!" she announced, swivelling to face the others and dropping her smile. With another roll of her eyes, she said, "Gawd, he's so cheery. Why would anyone be that bubbly when we might die any minute now?" Autumn pursed her lips, before bursting into giggles. Funny. Everything was so funny.
Autumn reached for her head and tugged a strand of gold hair from its roots, flinching. Another strand grew back immediately in its place. Ooo, convenient. Autumn plucked several more from her head, braiding it rapidly into an intricate braid. She swivelled it around her ring finger, tying it into a circle that looked like - "A ring!" She strolled over to the eyeless couple, tapping the boy on the shoulder. He turned around, regarding her through his gazeless face. "A ring," she announced, handing it to him.
"Oh, miss, my ring is a gold band. This isn't the ring, silly!" he chuckled.
"So?"
"So, I can't ask for her hand in marriage with this," he whispered, as if he didn't want the love of his life to overhear. You're not whispering very softly, she thought.
"What does it matter? If she loves you, she doesn't care what sort of ring you give her, if you give her one at all," she explained with a yawn that sounded more like a kitten's meow.
"Yes, but-"
"Listen, kid," she began. "Take the ring, call it a ring, get married, have lots of NPC, eyeless babies and move on. How can I miss you if you won't go away?"