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Description
"How do I look?"

Tobias looked up from the t.v. to Isolde, blinking at the sight of her. Her usually ponytailed or chopsticked hair hung loose around her shoulders and her normal business suit had been traded for a slinky, curve enhancing, little black dress. She'd taken off the bandages on her arms, covering up the scars with long black gloves. Her face actually had make-up on it, a first for Tobi. He paused, unsure how to respond at first.

"A hooker?" he tried.

Isolde frowned, debating on whether to hit him, come up with a witty comeback, or continue the pursuit in hearing what she needed to hear. She tried for option three. "Okay, fine. But an expensive hooker?" she asked.

"Where are you going?" the teenager replied, muting the t.v. and turning to completely face her.

"A date," the woman replied.

Tobi sniffed, partially unconvinced. "You go on a date looking like that, they're only gonna expect one thing," he said with a slight frown.

Isolde paused, and then smiled a humorless smile. "That's all I needed to know," she said, turning to grab her purse and slip on black heels that gave the already tall woman a good three more inches. Tobi frowned further.

"You want that?" he asked. Isolde gave a sigh, turning back around.

"How many necromancers do you know, Tobias?" she asked.

The teenager thought a moment, wondering if it was a trick question. "You," he said. "And that one guy that tried to kill you."

"Right. Two," she said. "And do you know why you only know two?" Tobi shrugged. "Because there aren't that many necromancers around. And do you know why there aren't?" Another shrug. "Because necromancers don't really procreate. Not because nobody wants to, but because most people think dealing with the undead is creepy. And unlike dealing with vampires, the eternally beautiful, necromancers deal with rotting corpses, which turns up the creepy-factor to max. Most of the people who aren't completely creeped out by necromancers are... pretty freaky folk themselves, something an upstanding citizen wouldn't want hanging around. And because of this, necromancers really don't get laid."

"Ah," Tobi said, starting to see where this was going.

"Now... I have found one of the few normal individuals who knows what I am and still is taking me out to dinner... So I'll ask you again. How do I look?"

Tobias grinned. "Like an expensive hooker."

Isolde gave another humorless smile. "Good."

~*~

Isolde, my bitchy necromancer, all dressed up and ready to go!

((note: Tobi isn't mine. I borrowed him for fictional purposes.))

Description
"How do I look?"

Tobias looked up from the t.v. to Isolde, blinking at the sight of her. Her usually ponytailed or chopsticked hair hung loose around her shoulders and her normal business suit had been traded for a slinky, curve enhancing, little black dress. She'd taken off the bandages on her arms, covering up the scars with long black gloves. Her face actually had make-up on it, a first for Tobi. He paused, unsure how to respond at first.

"A hooker?" he tried.

Isolde frowned, debating on whether to hit him, come up with a witty comeback, or continue the pursuit in hearing what she needed to hear. She tried for option three. "Okay, fine. But an expensive hooker?" she asked.

"Where are you going?" the teenager replied, muting the t.v. and turning to completely face her.

"A date," the woman replied.

Tobi sniffed, partially unconvinced. "You go on a date looking like that, they're only gonna expect one thing," he said with a slight frown.

Isolde paused, and then smiled a humorless smile. "That's all I needed to know," she said, turning to grab her purse and slip on black heels that gave the already tall woman a good three more inches. Tobi frowned further.

"You want that?" he asked. Isolde gave a sigh, turning back around.

"How many necromancers do you know, Tobias?" she asked.

The teenager thought a moment, wondering if it was a trick question. "You," he said. "And that one guy that tried to kill you."

"Right. Two," she said. "And do you know why you only know two?" Tobi shrugged. "Because there aren't that many necromancers around. And do you know why there aren't?" Another shrug. "Because necromancers don't really procreate. Not because nobody wants to, but because most people think dealing with the undead is creepy. And unlike dealing with vampires, the eternally beautiful, necromancers deal with rotting corpses, which turns up the creepy-factor to max. Most of the people who aren't completely creeped out by necromancers are... pretty freaky folk themselves, something an upstanding citizen wouldn't want hanging around. And because of this, necromancers really don't get laid."

"Ah," Tobi said, starting to see where this was going.

"Now... I have found one of the few normal individuals who knows what I am and still is taking me out to dinner... So I'll ask you again. How do I look?"

Tobias grinned. "Like an expensive hooker."

Isolde gave another humorless smile. "Good."

~*~

Isolde, my bitchy necromancer, all dressed up and ready to go!

((note: Tobi isn't mine. I borrowed him for fictional purposes.))