03-25-2020, 07:16 PM
The music vibrated through her being; a deafening cacophony, the rhythm heavy and frantic. Inside the club chaos roamed; naked flesh and, quite literally, the prowl of wolves. Pale eyes watched that indifferently, an effort of too much spectacle for her taste, but each to their own. Moscow was not her favourite place anyway; she recognised that it flavoured her mood -- which she had already softened with several shots. Hardly the venue to conduct business, but then it wasn’t her choice nor strictly her business. Her father wouldn’t have been seen dead in a place like this.
She smirked loosely as she squeezed her way through the squash of bodies, and though there were plenty of beautiful faces none snared more than passing interest. The alcohol flowed free, and probably more, but the vacuous glaze worn by most promised only annoyance -- and that at best. She was on her own, which so often seemed interpreted as an invitation. But if she was going to pass the time until the contact made themselves known she was at least going to enjoy the dancing, blemished by the slide of unwanted hands or not (and it was not like she was incapable of looking after herself, after all).
Her skin sheened lightly from the dancing. Pale hair ribboned over one shoulder, loose and unadorned. She was clearly moneyed, as one tended to be in this part of the city, but it was a wealth only flaunted to a knowing eye; certainly not flashy. The bar as she approached was packed, but she was not in a hurry.
She smirked loosely as she squeezed her way through the squash of bodies, and though there were plenty of beautiful faces none snared more than passing interest. The alcohol flowed free, and probably more, but the vacuous glaze worn by most promised only annoyance -- and that at best. She was on her own, which so often seemed interpreted as an invitation. But if she was going to pass the time until the contact made themselves known she was at least going to enjoy the dancing, blemished by the slide of unwanted hands or not (and it was not like she was incapable of looking after herself, after all).
Her skin sheened lightly from the dancing. Pale hair ribboned over one shoulder, loose and unadorned. She was clearly moneyed, as one tended to be in this part of the city, but it was a wealth only flaunted to a knowing eye; certainly not flashy. The bar as she approached was packed, but she was not in a hurry.