[Carlos] Flashback: What Happens In Rio....(tag Ami)
There are a thousand things to do in Rio during Carnaval, but all of them center on performance, spirituality, or Carlos Olivera's personal favorite--pleasure. His job was dangerous. His lifespan, uncertain and probably short. And his employer was starting to seem far less a safe, sane, civilized home for a man of his skills than he had originally been led to believe. Which pissed him off, and made the stability and fat paycheck seem less than worth it. Coming to Rio for his yearly Carnival visit seemed just the thing. And he intended to throw himself into it with enough enthusiasm to wash away Umbrella and all that bullshit for a good four days.
It was a hot, voluptuous night, the air clinging to the skin with the feel of steam. Carlos had grown up in such weather, and enjoyed it while out-of-towners groaned and complained. What was a little sweat?
Not one for the Sambadome or larger parades, he found himself prowling the Copacabana's nightclubs, pushing through crowds of tourists, mostly American, struggling with their Portuguese phrasebooks when almost everyone around them spoke English. He was dressed in sandals, a pair of dark brown gauze pants rolled at the ankle, and a cream knit-silk t-shirt. By nine, he was slightly drunk, horny, and in a very good mood indeed.
He stopped in an open-air club with people dancing under strings of paper lanterns, bending over the fountain in the middle of the dancefloor and scooping up water to wet down his hair and the back of his neck. When he lifted his head, a flash of scarlet caught his attention. He straightened and looked. /Oh my. Hello, beautiful./
Red silk against smooth dark skin; bright eyes and a flashing smile. The dress was midthigh-length and cut almost to the tailbone in back; modest for Rio at Carnaval, granted--but God, it did the trick. Carlos suddenly needed a drink, and wanted something else entirely. /Back off, soldier. Keep an eye out and make sure she isn't actually with someone. Because I'm in no mood to be all that subtle once we actually get to talking./
He nursed a pina colada and watched her with her friends, refusing dance offers by virtue of his drink. She didn't seem to have an actual relationship with either of the women, and though she danced with one or two men she looked...distracted the whole time. No chemistry. Unlucky for them. Possibly lucky for Carlos, though.
The two girls with her were looking at him, each other, and her, and had conspiratorial smiles. They started whispering to her. Carlos cocked an eyebrow slightly, and smiled himself. /OK, this looks a bit promising. What's going on?/