Alexandria was never good with words. Even after she became fluent in English, there was always an accent that only worsened in times of stress, but that wasn’t the biggest problem; her guitar was gone.
Alexandria Kozlov breathed deep and slow as she tried to remember where she last placed it. Thinking back, she was almost certain it was lost sometime between when Anya and her new squeeze, Clarke, convinced her to drink after a particularly successful concert at Grounders.
Her faithful Guitar of at least ten years, several moves, and a survivor of drunken Clarke shenanigans, was missing. Finding it was almost as important as finding her (also) misplaced pants. The pants were thankfully easier to find as she grabbed a pair underneath Anya as she grumbled nonsensibly next to a dozing Clarke.
Alexandria hopped around in a rather undignified manner, cleaned up a little to at least cover the aroma of booze, and strode from her apartment and over to Grounders. Thankfully, aside from the haze of sleep, she didn’t have a hangover to slow her down. That’s one good thing she inherited from her parents.
The bar, as usual, was warm and inviting with its earthy tones and smiling barkeep, Lincoln. Gustus was probably tidying up the area around the stage while his husband Theodore sent him entire conversations via emoji.
Lo and behold Gustus was smiling at whatever strange line Theodore and most recently sent him. Stress made Alexandria even less socially adept as she practically rushed Gustus.
“Gustus,” She gritted out “Have you seen my guitar?”
Gustus shook his head and look mildly alarmed at his might-as-well-be daughter as her stance became increasingly agitated. He ran a hand through his braided beard thoughtfully as he processed it “After the concert, only a few new faces stayed behind after the rest cleared out. I’m sure they’re probably a better witness to wherever your guitar may be”
Lexa nodded and walked over to the lovingly dubbed “Hangover Room” rented out to any who weren’t able to contact or afford rides home. It started after Clarke Griffin and the group of the so-called “Delinquents” became regulars at the cozy establishment. Inside the room a few people were stirring when the ever-maliginant sun showed its rays and began to beat upon their eyes.
On the right wall her guitar, in all its aged beauty, sat. Over it years with Lexa it has seen many changes, but two things that have always been constant was the sticker of crows on the base and some odd scribble on the inside, near the right. Lexa was never able to translate the scribble into something even mildly legible, but she’s accepted it as a part of the over-all charm of the ol’ gal. Clarke’s odd phrases have somehow infiltrated Lexa’s own vocabulary. How dastardly of Clarke.
In her haste to retrieve her precious, Lexa failed to notice the stranger cozying up to her instrument. The stranger was murmuring something that sounded vaguely familiar to Lexa, but she couldn’t recognize from where.
“That’s mine.” Even Lexa recognized how unfriendly her voice sounded. Practically hostile she must say (which she will, after she has her baby safe with her). Her words caught the attention of the stranger at the very least.
The woman merely lifted her eyebrow and responded in a amused tone “I’m afraid you’re mistaken miss, but this is mine. Typically things with your name on them implies ownership.” After a moment, her lips (Which Lexa was not looking at one bit thank you very much) curled into a wry smirk as she continued, “Now kindly fuck off and let me enjoy my hangover”
Alexandria’s blood boils and she’s about to argue further when she understands what this mystery woman just said and shuts up completely. Her mouth opens in shock as memories wash over her.