2024-12-29 - Smoke and Honey

"Ah-ah, ah-ahahah."

The soft spoken rasp of Katrin's vocalizations are empowered by the microphone - her lips nearly brushing against its harsh metallic shell as she stresses to put just enough power behind the sound to be heard. The cherry wood of her acoustic guitar hardly seems dark at all next to her lacy black dress (more lace than fabric at its hem and along its straps, like frills accentuating an otherwise opaque dress), her dark hair, or the glossy nail extensions honed to a point - save for on her right index finger and thumb, with which she holds her guitar pick. She eases back with her left foot and forward again with the same, to repeat the sound while she gently strums her way from a single string on repeat to an immediately recognizable progression of chords. It's a slowed, stripped down version of 'Where is My Mind' by the Pixies.

"Ah-ah, ah-ahahah."

Wednesday night. The place isn't exactly at capacity, but it's not quiet either. There's enough folx trying to dodge the evening rush that weekdays can be their own versions of rush hour - avoidant habits causing intermediate peak times throughout the week. This is to say, there's room to elbow up to the bar direct, but still a queue for drinks. The intermittent inclusion of live music is also a plus - and the singer is relatively new to staff, as of last month. A lounge singer in the stylings of repurposed pop and rock tracks; as well as some original numbers mixed in.

"With your feet in the air, your head on the-"

There's a pause here, as she drops quieter to emphasize just the one word. Her long, dark lashes veil her misty gray eyes as she looks out across the floor.

"-ground... Try this trick and spin it... Yeah."

Is Scarlett Nash hanging around the Spookeasy for the music?

No. She came here to lie low and drink, wearing a leather jacket over a black vest and dark, skin-tight jeans, with sunglasses and an Atlanta Falcons cap slung on to help conceal her face. The goal here is to drink a lot and avoid being recognized by any disappointed fans. Scarlett isn't sure she could handle being recognized at the moment - her flameout from the tour is still too raw.

However...

Katrin's voice is striking enough to make Scarlett set down her whiskey and look up towards the singer, sliding her sunglasses down to watch more properly. Her plush lips quirk upwards at the corners, clearly pleased by what she sees and hears.

Further down the bar, a young woman glances over at Scarlett and widens her eyes, starting to realize who she's looking at now that the sunglasses aren't obscuring her face as much.

Just as the cherry wood guitar is made all the more pale by the dark of her outfit - her dress and her heeled ankle-boots do the same for her pale skin, save for the elaborate sleeve of tattooed flowers climbing upward from her left wrist and the eclectic mix of occult symbols otherwise; uniformly in black or grayscale. There isn't a pop of colour to her present attire - only the subtle layer of sweet peppermint pink lipstick that comes so close to transferring to the mic as she sings. A performance that seems to be going well enough - or, well enough up until the gradual sweep of her gaze lands across the bar.

"Where is my mind."
"A-where is my -mind."
"Whe-here is my -y ...mind."

She's landing just on the other side of the chorus when it hits her like a spray of water off a rocky coast followed by a visitor in the form of some waking sleep-paralysis. Her mouth freezes, lips gently parted as her eyelashes flutter through a daze. She stops strumming - the music coming to a stop entirely. It's awkward, but timed well enough to be some deeply eccentric choice: like she really has lost her mind. And it goes on for far too long, at that. But the song isn't too far from the truth. Katrin isn't there right now - not wholly. Her mind adrift on a current of inspiration and 'things that might'.

Right now, for Katrin, internally, that means a vision of shards of broken glass shimmering in uniform against droplets of whiskey in the light. A scream that starts low and slowed-down then loud and sped up to a shriek of rage or ...maybe frustration. It's no indication of actual violence or the potential severity of what might come to pass. But that, in itself, might be reason for concern. She sees a face in the middle of it all, formed of all those droplets and shards as her perspective draws back. Scarlett. Who her gaze had hitched on at the bar.

Coming back to reality is like taking a sharp, sudden breath at the surface after a too-long free dive into the dark. Her breath hitches, her eyes come back into focus, and she wobbles on her feet before steadying. Her voice trembles as she skips ahead to the second rendition of the chorus. A power behind her words that wasn't there for the first. An impatient rush to the end of the song that infuses a certain degree of unintentional passion. No sooner than she has strummed the last chord does she set her guitar aside and dip her chin in thanks - only to hop down off the stage. She's aimed herself at the bar, intending to land somewhere between Scarlett and her onlooker by the time she reaches it.

It's not just Katrin's voice that has Scarlett mesmerized - it's her appearance, too. The dark hair, the pale skin, the black dress, the tattoos, the flash of pink lipstick - Scarlett finds it all intriguing, drinking it all in.

But then--

Scarlett can see Katrin's concentration break as something pulls her away from reality for a moment. The rest of the song isn't the same, as the redhead recognizes a fellow performer rushing through the rest of it.

When the song ends and Katrin heads over in her direction, Scarlett blinks and slides her sunglasses back up, flashing a smile Katrin's way. "Fantastic job. Can I buy you a drink for doing so well?" she asks, unaware of the young woman inching closer behind her.

Katrin still carries some of that daze with her - or maybe she's just figuring out where she knows Scarlett from, as she leans against the bar with her right elbow; giving a slightly-distant smile as she processes what Scarlett is saying to her just a little later than she should. "I've done better," she retorts in a friendly way - but she means it. She might have made a passably eccentric save of her flub. But it was a recognizable flub, all the same. Her misty gray eyes - the sort that evoke morning fog over a mountain lake - flit to the bartender for a moment. When she looks eyes with them, she gives a nod and lifts her left hand for a wobble before looking back to Scarlett.

"Drink would be nice," she confides, as focus gradually returns. Her tone is measured, but warm. There's nothing really formal about her. Rather, she just seems to alternate between being wholly present and absent minded. Alternatingly personable and strange. "But I was just going to step outside to take a breather, first." There's a loaded pause there - as she looks to the whiskey in Scarlett's glass and then the bottle it likely came from (she knows her mind altering substances well, after all) - before she makes the offer. "Wanna come with?"

Scarlett's eyes are a similar shade to Katrin's, but hers are more the shade of silver lightning, bright amidst the storm. Those sharp eyes are bright as she looks Katrin over, curious and friendly.

"A-- breather?" the redhead asks, raising an eyebrow. She glances at her glass for a moment before shrugging and downing the rest of the whiskey.

Her gaze returns to meet Katrin's, lips curling up at the corners. "Lead the way," Scarlett says easily, rising to her feet.

Katrin must know it's an odd counter-request, recommending a breather in place of a drink to a stranger. But she doesn't show any awkward uncertainty over it, in the measured warmth of her countenance - in her open expression and her welcoming smile. She nods in confirmation of that stated plan, then she cants her head a little as she follows the trajectory of the whiskey, thrown back and downed by Scarlett. "I mean, I'll absolutely be taking you up on that free drink when we get back," she notes, with a friendly playfulness about her tone there.

She knocks her knuckles on the counter and gives another nod to the bartender to signify the start of her apparent break as she stands up straight, lifting her elbow up off the countertop. Her attention returns to Scarlett, a beckoning crook of one finger - pointed nail and all - to guide them both toward that covert entrance to the hidden venue, back out into the park proper. "How long you been at the park?" she asks, off-handedly. Likely a lead in to some more important follow-up question, given the hesitant manner with which she holds her tongue.

That crook of a finger makes Scarlett's eyebrows rise even more, her lips curling upwards again. She follows Katrin out, tucking her hat firmly onto her head.

"Only just arrived recently. You been working here awhile?" the redhead asks, the slightest hint of a southern drawl in her voice. She eyes Katrin curiously, trying to sort out the hesitance in the darker-haired woman. "And what brought you here? You have a gorgeous voice. I bet you could go far with a voice like that."

"Oh-" Katrin starts, like that measurement requires some intense internal calculation. Only for her to glance back with a self-amused look on her face. "Less than a month, truthfully. Got in, like, less than two weeks before the holidays started. A bit lost in the shuffle, so far." She seems to find it easy to fall into this open, companionable quality of conversation. Even if there is something controlled about her - something subtly performative in how she behaves; more subdued. Distantly warm. Testingly playful.

Back out on the boardwalk, her heeled ankle-boots clunk against the wood of the path. And she steps just out and aside from the door. Here, imitation gas lamps line the waterway. Evening shift employees wander in period-appropriate garb between waterfront stores attractions. But close to the half-hidden speakeasy, traffic is less dense.

She beams proudly at the compliment, tilting her head a little as her full smile causes some crinkling at the corners of her eyes. "That's really kind of you to say," she replies; her smile carrying through into the already warm tone of her voice. "So far, it's gotten me steady work here and a lot less juggling odd jobs. Which, honestly: huge come-up," she confides, with a chuckle. Which trails off before she broaches the difficult question. "Have you had... much trouble, since you got here?"

Katrin's perceptive eyes will undoubtedly pick up the performative element of the way Scarlett presents herself, too:

As carefree and laid-back as she tries to seem, there's a tightly wound anxiety underneath it. Scarlett is trying to appear level-headed and chill, but she actually feels anything but. Her gray eyes are stormy, with a barely controlled fire just held back.

As she follows Katrin out, expensive sneakers squeaking on the wood, Scarlett sneaks a couple of subtle glances around, before seeming satisfied that they're mostly alone out here. "Oh, I can so get that. I never enjoyed juggling random things around to make ends meet," she agrees softly, gazing out into the park.

But then...

That last question makes her head whip around to face Katrin, eyes widening, posture stiffening. For just a moment, the fight or flight response in her eyes is obvious, before Scarlett forces it down, some semblance of control returning. "What-- uh, what do you mean by trouble?" she asks, voice tight. "Not... too much." A pause. "Okay, just once or twice. Kind of had a mini-dustup with a dude in a bar when I first got here, but he was fine. He was just being an asshole and ended up with my beer all over him, like he deserved."

The redhead rummages in her pockets for a moment before producing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. One cigarette is pulled out and put to her lips before she flicks the lighter open and lights it up. "You smoke?" Scarlett asks, taking a drag.

"But hey - gotta get inspiration from somewhere," Katrin quips, conspiratorially amused on the subject of odd jobs and making due. "And there's nothing out there more inspiring than a job you don't want to do - whether it's at the seediest dive of a club, or the kind of scrubbing that doesn't benefit keeping your nails intact." All in all, she keeps it vague as she relates. But that may be more having a roladex of gigs to pick through than any particular avoidance of specific; too many gigs to specifically name a couple.

When Scarlett whips her head around, Katrin answers the gesture with a canted head and an apologetic smile - pink lips drawn flat, but just askew enough to still be somewhat playful in this aspect. She definitely didn't mean to step on a nerve - but she's clearly curious about that very nerve, now. She doesn't interrupt, though. She plays it patient and gives Scarlett all the room she needs to explain, for herself. On the other end of that explanation, she considers the cigarette that her present boardwalk companion is in the process of lighting up - as if her determination of just what substance she's talking will be a deciding factor in her answer, or at least a means for tilting her one way or the other - and the question that arrived with it. She answers first, before diving deeper into the subject at hand. Though, there is a bit of a laugh - pleasantly pitched - when Scarlett references dousing some asshole with beer.

"Weed, as long as I'm off work. Cigarettes - only when I'm drinking, really," she confesses. She dips her chin and leans in just a little before she adds a caveat. "But, you already promised be a drink. So a couple puffs couldn't hurt." Her countenance goes from apologetic back to quarters comfortable, casual, and warm. And she shrugs, at last, regarding her earlier perception of Scarlett and her association with 'trouble.'

"Got a bad vibe is all - maybe to do with the person in there, eyeing you up," she states, dismissing any notion judgement over Scarlett's past dust ups. "Figured I might try my hand at defusing things before they even started. Though-" She clicks her tongue against the backs of her teeth preceding a counterpoint. "-it really is a shame I missed you drenching some dude with your beer."

As worried as Scarlett seemed at first when Katrin asked about trouble, she does seem to be at least a bit comforted by the apologetic smile and friendly patience offered next by the other woman. Some of the tension in her posture eases, fading away as she takes another drag of the cigarette and exhales light smoke into the dark, cold air.

"I like you already," Scarlett laughs softly, offering the cigarette to Katrin. Her small smile starts to fade, though, as the other woman explains herself. "Eyeing me up? Was it the girl just behind me at the bar?" she asks, grimacing. "You were right to step in, then. Not sure how well things would have gone otherwise."

The redhead looks at Katrin for a long moment, clearly weighing her next words. "Just realized I never caught your name," she finally says, her tone somewhat apologetic. "I'm Scarlett. I don't work here or anything - just visiting for awhile."

Katrin seems to be a decent read of people - enough so to catch the easing of tension in Scarlett's posture, whether she allocates the reasoning behind that to the cigarette or to her own influence. When Scarlett relaxes, Katrin seems to as well, taking on a more genuine - less deliberately chosen - smile. And she laughs pleasantly at the review given from the other woman in return, before plucking the offered smoke with her fingers; careful not to poke or prod Scarlett's fingers with the pointed nail extensions that she currently has on.

"That makes two of us. Willingness to throw a drink at a deserving target always earns a few extra points in my books," she admits, with a head cant and a wink - dark lashes flashing across misty gray iris in the expression of that playful compliment. She nods about the person who'd been eyeing Scarlett up as she positions the cigarette to take a drag, pursing her lips to only just barely notch the filter between them so as little of that pale pink lipstick will transfer as possible. A sign of someone who is used to passing joints around in a circle. But that's more or less in line with what she already said.

She takes a long, slow draw, letting that ember burn up about a sixth of the length of the cigarette before she takes it away from her mouth. She holds it in for a moment, letting that subtly aching burn in her lungs grow until exhaling becomes its own relief. It arrives as a content sigh, all that smoke being puffed back out in a smooth, persistent line before billowing up. Her smile stays lazily parted for a moment, afterward, until she offers the cigarette back to Scarlett. "Been a lot of trouble with girls and guys like that?" she asks in follow up. At the mention of not having her name? She makes a performance of setting the heel of her free hand to her forehead in a gesture of, 'duh.'

Her hand is still in place when she offers, "I'm Katrin." It only falls back to her side afterward. Soon to wrap around herself in the chill of the night, with just her dress and her boots to stave off the chill. "I know," she also chirps, cheerfully, on Scarlett's name. Her eyes flash a little wider when she recognizes how that might be taken. And she's quick to explain, "I mean, you're famous. Just, wasn't gonna harass you on vacation over it. Or whatever."

"God, you sure about that?" Scarlett asks of earning points for throwing a drink. She snorts and shakes her head. As Katrin smokes, she tilts her head to watch; her long, fiery curls fall over one shoulder, a flash of color under the dim lights of the Boo'edwalk.

"Girls and guys like what? People staring?" she asks with a wry, amused smirk. "Darling, looking like this, I'm used to staring. I'd be disappointed if I didn't get a few stares." Her smirk fades just a bit as she considers the question more seriously. "Yeah, a bit of trouble. I bring it on myself, mostly, though. I should have a thicker skin."

The cigarette is gratefully accepted back and lifted to her lips for another drag. Scarlett savors the burning warmth, letting it work through her lungs before exhaling. The smoke almost matches her eyes in this light: hazy and warm.

"Nice to meet you, Katrin. Pretty name," she offers, taking another drag and--

I know.

Once again, Scarlett's head whips around to look at Katrin, eyes blazing. "You--" She cuts herself off, grimacing and puffing on the cigarette again as she looks away. "Shit. Should have realized." The redhead turns back to meet Katrin's eyes, swallowing hard. "Thanks for not saying anything in there. Was trying to avoid being spotted, and I guess I was doing a shitty job."

The redhead takes another drag before offering the cigarette over to the darker-haired woman. "Did you hear the stuff about my tour, or are you not that up to date on me?" she asks softly, watching Katrin curiously.

"Places I've worked?" Katrin prompts, on that initial question for clarification on 'thrower of drinks' being a positive marker. It's a question for which she matches the tilt of Scarlett's head with a cant of her own - like the matching of these symmetrical parallels is important for such conspiratorial talk, wherein their eyes can lock directly without being too askew. On queue, her own dark hair, what's loose from the messy bun behind her head provides a cold contrast against the pale of her exposed shoulder on either side of the lacy strap of her dress. "Could really have benefited from you coming in and dousing a few of the resident assholes."

Her smile blossoms into something bright for this admission, and she chuckles to herself before she straightens her head back up. She dips her chin as if to say 'point taken' on the subject of those staring, like she can relate. It's on the topic of thicker skin that she lifts her left hand, with its palm facing down, to wobble with uncertainty. "Can't blame your skin from failing to protect you when you're not the one trying to pierce it. Shouldn't be your job to, like, smile and stomach what other people want to throw at you," she says, musing in a gentler, but still casual way. Like she can really, deeply relate.

She's not immune to praise. This much is clear for the way the corners of her eyes crinkle as her smile grows again in response to the compliment for her name. She might be about to play it down - make a comment about how she didn't pick it, but is grateful for it. Any number of humble little practiced retorts, really. But then she's confirming that she knows of Scarlett with a quick little dip of her delicate chin. Quick enough to jostle more face-framing locks of hair from behind her ears. "Mention a far more famous singer in the room while I'm on stage? Wouldn't dream of it," she teases, fully joking on the context given that she follows the comment up with a shrug. "No one wearing sunglasses to a bar that isn't hitting up karaoke to sing along to some Tiesto wants to be recognized. I can read the room." She might mean the cover of Corey Hart's 'Sunglasses at Night' done with Heidi Klum. If only because the original predates her by some years.

On the subject of Scarlett's recent tour, she gives a gentle nod. "Not my business," she reassures. "And I don't put much stock in gossip headlines that get in the way of my doomscrolling TikTok and Instagram." It's a full and genuine promise that anything she's heard of Scarlett, incidentally, from those sources is not admissible in the court of Katrin.

Speaking of staring...

Scarlett does a good deal of it when Katrin's dark hair falls against her bare, pale shoulders. Her smoky grey eyes take it all in with interest, lingering on the contrast between exposed skin and dark hair. The staring isn't subtle, and she doesn't mean it to be - there isn't a hint of shame.

The redhead does blink and glance back up to Katrin's face, though, when she realizes that the other woman is out in the cold with her arms bare. "Oh, shit, sorry - should have offered earlier," she mutters, pulling her leather jacket off and holding it out to Katrin. "Take it - you look cold. I'll be all right." Taking the jacket off leaves Scarlett in a long-sleeved, black denim shirt, with only a few buttons done up.

That smile from Katrin earns another stare from Scarlett, bringing a smile of her own that slowly curls her lips up. "Are you sure I wasn't coming along to sing Tiesto karaoke?" she asks with a low laugh. Those sunglasses are perched oh top of her head now, nestled into red curls.

Her smile softens, and she takes another drag of the cigarette. "Thank God. I've had to spend way too much time explaining myself lately. Most people don't worry about whether something is their business or not." Scarlett watches the smoke curl up past her lips, drifting into the dark air. "How long have you been singing? I've been poking around the park to find some decent musicians, try and remind myself what I'm supposed to be doing, and you're probably the best one I've seen yet."

The redhead laughs quietly. "You probably know way more about me than I know about you already - it's a bit unfair. That's why I'm asking so many questions. I'll stop with one last one: where are you from?"

Katrin seems to react to the staring in the same manner she'd responded to the praise - at least under present circumstances: with a smile. Though, this one has a hint of 'knowing playfulness' that tilts her smile slightly askew in an all too sly manner. She doesn't comment on it, but it's wholly clear that she noticed when she meets Scarlett's gaze with her own, just ahead of the offer of that leather jacket. She hesitates in taking it - half reaching, while recognizing Scarlett's own current attire with some deeper assessment. In the end, she takes it, pulling it up over her shoulders and sending her hands carefully down each sleeve so that her nails don't catch. And, all in all? Lace-adorned dress, leather jacket, and heeled ankle boots? It's a vibe.

"Thanks," she offers, with gratitude and relief. "I'll trade it back to you when you get cold - before we head back in? Just having trouble readjusting to the climate of, you know, states with seasons." Again, there's that apologetic cast to her smile. But it comes with a little huff of residual humour, out through her nose. And she catches herself looking to how those curls frame Scarlett's sunglasses, as they're perched, nestled amidst all that eye-catching red. There's a faint giggle that escapes her on the subject of karaoke, and Scarlett's retort.

"Not a hundred percent sure. But sure enough until I find out where the park has their machines squirreled away. Gotta be at least one on these islands, somewhere," she answers, in turn. And she just dips her chin again, in agreement with people minding their business. Not pushing, prodding, or shanking with gossip they've been made privy to by the grapevine. True to form: she continues not pushing or prodding on the subject, instead focusing on what follows - those two questions meant to help them break even on mutual knowledge.

"Forever," she states, honestly, and with some mix of contenment and exhaustion. "Choir, performing arts school, the works. But professionally? Maybe, like, eight or nine years." She cants her head back and grins a little more brightly ahead of her caveat of, "Professionally and successfully? Just a couple years without all those nasty odd jobs and shit." She doesn't seem at all bothered to be answering these questions. She claims as much before long.

"I've got the privilege of being able to pick how much I share. Never gonna fault you for asking - just as long as you never fault me for picking and choosing what parts I answer," she assures Scarlett, as she starts at tucking her own hair back up behind her ear on the right side, at least in part. "Chicago, originally. Till I was fifteen. Been bouncing around the west coast, since. I mean, before now. I'm here, now." Obviously. She keeps herself bundled up in the coat without properly closing it - just drawing her shoulders on, and then wrapping her arms around herself. She seems to be hit by her next question as direct inspiration from the ether, because it causes her to perk up.

"What do you want me to know about you?" she asks. "Something that you want to be known for when you meet new people, but that the gossip-y peeps never get around to sharing."

When Katrin does indeed take Scarlett's offered jacket, the redhead's smile widens, eyes remaining fixed on the other woman and watching her put the jacket on. "Looks good on you! Definitely better than on me. Maybe I should just give it to you - I can totally get a new one pretty easily." It's all said very casually.

"Oh, God - me too, darlin'." The Southern drawl slips out there on the final word, soft and sweet like honey. "Where I'm from, we have two seasons: hot and slightly chilly. This is... a lot more than slightly chilly." Scarlett puffs on the cigarette again, savoring the heat.

"I've been through Chicago a few times now. Nice place, but it is just as fuckin' windy as I thought it would be," she says, snorting softly. If Katrin is eyeing Scarlett's curls, she'll see how vibrantly red they are, even in the current low light. Her hair is very curly - it seems almost untameable.

She smiles and settles back on her heels, then, listening to Katrin answer her many questions. "If you're nice to me, I might sing for you someday - sometime when I'm not on vocal rest, like today." Scarlett winks.

That last question actually makes the redheaded woman pause, earning a long thoughtful look as she considers it. "Huh. I actually don't think anyone's ever asked me that before." Scarlett frowns, biting her lip and thinking hard before answering.

"Okay. Thing one: I really enjoy boxing and wish I had time to do it more. And... thing two: I've always enjoyed acting, did drama in high school, but had to give up on that when the label signed me. I was actually applying to drama school in my senior year of high school," Scarlett confides, a little extra color on her pale cheeks (even beyond the flush that comes from the cold).

She tucks her hair behind an ear, actually looking a bit bashful for a moment before continuing. "Okay, your turn. What do you want me to know about you?"

Katrin's lips part with some slight surprise as those gray eyes of hers flash wide, once again, for Scarlett's generous offer. "I don't know if I could just keep this. I've kept people's t-shirts and hoodies. But a whole-ass leather jacket feels like pushing my luck. Even as she says this, though, she traces the lining of the jacket with her fingertips - right along the unfastened inner edges as she simply wraps the garment around herself to keep the heat on. The offer itself seems enough to have her swell with joy though - the gesture rather than the thing itself, as she keeps right on smiling. But with how that's timed, it could also be a reaction to that sweet way that Scarlett says the word, 'honey.' She seems to enjoy that too.

"I'm good to head back in out of the cold once your cig is all burnt out," she relates, on the current state of chill. And for all her dismissal of the notion of keeping the jacket? She's still wearing it for now. But she leans in closer, just dipping her chin down a touch to further explain. "Not me rushing you - by the way - I'm liking this. Winter-cold or not." She sounds like she means it too. And her gaze flickers up just briefly at this closer proximity, for a better look at those vibrant red curls while they're backlit - catching the glow of some nearby faux-lamplight. When she straightens back up, her eyes drop back down to meet Scarlett's. "Chicago is nice - just different, now, than when it used to be home." She muses curiously on this point, like she hasn't quite figured out what that means yet.

She nods with emphasis on the offer to sing for her sometime. "I'll have to make a play at being extra nice, then," she quips playfully. "Pull out all the stops. Charm to eleven, and all that." For effect, she bats her eyelashes, only to giggle at the other end of the gesture of manufactured charm. What she does quiet for is that answered curiosity on those special things Scarlett would like to have known about her. Her eyebrows lift for the mention of boxing. Apparently she's impressed by that. And there's an instinctual glance toward the other woman's bicep, like she's just starting to picture her in action. She nods along with the rest.

"Was a theater kid while I was still attending," she confesses in kind. "Think you'd be fun on a stage." It's a point she concedes with a dip of her chin and a huff that says 'duh' as well as blows some strands of hair up and out of the way of her eyes. "Already fun on a stage. But I meant, like, doing a musical." When it comes to her answering the question in kind? She pauses, like she wasn't prepared for that inevitable end. She clicks her tongue against the backs of her teeth and tilts her head back, looking up to the sky.

"Poetry," she decides, by the time she looks back down. She shares a softer smile over the thought. "Was really into it, before I moved. Everyone doted on me over the music stuff while I was in school. But I also really liked writing poems and songs. Not just singing and reciting them - but both." Another residual nod and chuckle precede the addition of, "And swimming. Nowhere to do it but public pools in Chicago - with the water cold as it was. But just having hours at a hotel with a near-empty pool was, like, the part of vacation I loved more than wherever it was we went."

"At this point, I'm just following you around until you get tired of me," Scarlett laughs, winking again at Katrin. "Inside or outside. You're in charge now."

Her cigarette is nearly burned out, to be fair. Scarlett finishes it off before flicking it aside, her attention returning to Katrin. "Oh, you don't need to charm me any more - I'm already sold. But if you bat your eyelashes at me again like that..." She trails off, grinning. "I'm gonna have a hard time saying no."

Katrin's glance at Scarlett's biceps won't reveal too much yet, since her arms are currently covered, but there does some to be some muscle tone underneath the shirt. "Thought I could see a fellow theatre kid. I appreciate the vote of confidence." She falls silent, then, and listens to Katrin's answers with a softer smile. "Oh, honey - you shouldn't have told me that. I'm gonna have you writing lyrics for songs for the rest of my life," the redhead laughs, gray eyes sparkling. "I hope I get to hear some sometime. I also would not complain about seeing you swim, either."

The singer pauses, biting her lip and meeting Katrin's eyes. "Sorry. I've had a bit too much to drink already and I'm getting obnoxious. Feel free to run away whenever you want."

"Think you'd have to work at that - at this rate. I'm not feeling the least bit tired," Katrin reassures. The corners of her lips flicker upward, instinctually, at the wink Scarlett sends her way. A gesture welcomed as warmly as that earlier complimentary praise, and the honeyed way she says words like 'darlin' and 'honey'. Those words seem to linger, residually, teasing the way up her spine to her head, from the base of her neck. "And I'll keep that in mind. Weak-point on lick," she quips, regarding the batting of eyelashes. It's a quip paired with another soft, pleasant laugh.

She dips her head toward the entry back into the Spookeasy, with that cigaratte butt flicked aside - that attempt to find that muscle tone through the sleeves of her shirts, managed. A gesture to follow her back in toward the heat to where the drinks are still flowing. And she probably has a couple of songs to get back to, on the other side of this impromptu break before she's officially off work. "You'll have to hear them yet, before you judge 'em. Could be I just sound pretty, and all my original words are just riffing on what's already been so overdone," she teases. Though there's something more sultry in the cant of her head and the upward draw of her eyebrows. She takes a moment to chew on her pink-painted bottom lip as she ponders, like she's not sure whether she should say something.

"Find me something warm enough to swim in, and you've got a deal," she decides. As much a playful tease as an offer, before she shakes her head gently at the apology. "I mean, like, don't be sorry. You're totally charming and you seem fun," she reassures. "I like fun. Unserious, uncomplicated, friendly fun," she further defines with a breathy little chuckle. And she gets the gate for the both of them, to usher them back into the speakeasy together.