03-26-2023, 06:40 PM
His smirk was dangerously close to eliciting a reaction. But it was conspiratorial rather than aggressive. No one called her Ori, but she hadn’t corrected him the whole time he used it, not any more than she’d pulled away from his over-familiar touch. Sometimes it was worth taking liberties. Other times not so much. Tonight Nox got lucky. Her shoulder tipped at his comment, dismissive. She didn’t want his burdens any more than she wanted his caution.
At the benign directions he had for her Ori outright laughed though. She supposed he’d never actually seen her channel to her limits, nor had any real idea of her capabilities. A little bit of a breeze was child’s play compared to the minutiae of tinkering in someone’s head; something she supposed it was not wise to admit to. In Nox’s monstrousness Ori saw something of kinship, but she was not so convinced of the reciprocity. She smirked. “Sure, sweetheart, I can do that.” In illustration, a faint ripple stirred the blue tips of his hair. She almost rolled her eyes.
As she slipped backwards she winked, utterly wicked. It was nothing she couldn’t perform from the shadows of backstage, but clearly she had no intention of staying here beyond his return to the stage. “Maybe I’ll add some embellishments of my own?”
She took the staff route to the bar, relieved it of a vodka bottle and an iced glass, then threaded her way through the tables. Power wreathed under her skin for any who knew how to recognise the tells. The lights were still low, the show ongoing, but she wanted a table with a decent vantage of the stage. A face as famous as Aiden Finnegan’s she had recognised on the cameras, of course, but that wasn’t the reason her smirk sharpened as she hooked herself a chair with a twist of power.
Ori didn’t ask permission or introduce herself as she sat. In fact she didn’t pay any of the three men much mind at all as she poured her drink and very purposefully rested her feet up in Aiden’s boyfriend’s lap like she owned him as well as the place. The heels gleamed sinfully. The slit of her dress was entirely scandalous. It was an invitation for payback, though if not, he made an alluring enough footstool.
At the benign directions he had for her Ori outright laughed though. She supposed he’d never actually seen her channel to her limits, nor had any real idea of her capabilities. A little bit of a breeze was child’s play compared to the minutiae of tinkering in someone’s head; something she supposed it was not wise to admit to. In Nox’s monstrousness Ori saw something of kinship, but she was not so convinced of the reciprocity. She smirked. “Sure, sweetheart, I can do that.” In illustration, a faint ripple stirred the blue tips of his hair. She almost rolled her eyes.
As she slipped backwards she winked, utterly wicked. It was nothing she couldn’t perform from the shadows of backstage, but clearly she had no intention of staying here beyond his return to the stage. “Maybe I’ll add some embellishments of my own?”
She took the staff route to the bar, relieved it of a vodka bottle and an iced glass, then threaded her way through the tables. Power wreathed under her skin for any who knew how to recognise the tells. The lights were still low, the show ongoing, but she wanted a table with a decent vantage of the stage. A face as famous as Aiden Finnegan’s she had recognised on the cameras, of course, but that wasn’t the reason her smirk sharpened as she hooked herself a chair with a twist of power.
Ori didn’t ask permission or introduce herself as she sat. In fact she didn’t pay any of the three men much mind at all as she poured her drink and very purposefully rested her feet up in Aiden’s boyfriend’s lap like she owned him as well as the place. The heels gleamed sinfully. The slit of her dress was entirely scandalous. It was an invitation for payback, though if not, he made an alluring enough footstool.
![[Image: orianderis.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/orianderis.jpg)