Unforgivable

[Miranda Frost]

"Bartender, my friend.... another glass of whatever the hell this was.", the silver haired woman would lightly push the glass in the bartender's direction, who's apparel seemed masked in the heavy cigar smoke clogging the air. Despite the fact any normal eye could have trouble making out his expression, Miranda could tell without really looking. 'Twas the benefit of the mechanical contraption the took up space in her left eye socket. Miranda had already five glasses of what she assumed was this man's strongest liquor, and yet she appeared unfazed. His look was one of both concern and minor awe. He'd reach down, his warm hands transferring the heavily scratched glass, to his own. Miranda would hear the "Pop" of the bottle and then the familiar sound of the fizzing liquid filling the glass. The bartender would hand over the glass, the fragile cup once again nicked by her her bladed fingers. The 'tender merely sighed and greeted the other who had chosen to sit next to her.

 The girl... reminded her of her Father. Blue eyes, black hair, thin frame. Miranda could wager she was quick as well, though she doubt it was on her father's level. Her free hand would move up, a silver finger reminiscent of a razor's edge lightly tugging her large collar down, revealing her scarred face in full. She'd bring the glass once again to her pale lips, the strong drink inside bringing a rosy color to her otherwise snow-white cheeks. She'd lower the glass against the rough wood of the bar, her glowing crimson eye drifting over this girl. No... not girl, young woman. To be honest she may not be that younger than Miranda. Her alcohol influenced grin widened, mentally taking a note of this.

 "I've been here in this hellish landscape for some time. For how long? Who can really say." she'd start to answer, her eye's gaze returning back to the glass in hand. Her grin fell to a look of indifference, one that highlighted the scars that tainted her face. Though one just looking at a glass could believe she was still smiling, the thin grey scar stretching from the corners of her mouth and backwards emphasizing this, or one could believe she was crying, as shown by the slash mark making a vertical line over her left eye. "Guess I'm just trying to find something to do.... things seemed to have grown a little quiet since the defeat of Volvagia".

 "The name's Miranda. Miranda Frost. and you are?", she'd ask, letting the glass sit near empty upon the bar's surface.

 "Dawn Snow.", she'd answer, her piercing blue eyes seemingly glancing away when Miranda's swung her way. Was she... studying her appearance? Miranda grinned wide and let out a hearty laugh, reaching over and patting her prosthetic hand against the girls back, careful not to accidentally cut her of course.

 "Pleasure to meet you Ms. Snow. We colder types have to be careful around these parts, lest we melt."