First entrance.

[scarred_grin]

[OOM: All in a day's work. Small warning for language and a bit of glossed-over sexual content.]

--already bracing herself for an agony that does not, somehow, arrive.

(The woman: a lean redhead of just-above-average height, in a little black dress perfectly suited to a night out with the cultural elite)The door closes behind her, and she stands

Comments

[7twistedwishes]

"Welcome." There's a woman in a black business suit over there, enjoying a martini. "Have a seat, dear."

[scarred_grin]

At least she's dressed well enough to fit in, with this woman anyway.

She can't hear what's going on in the cave, nor can she feel it. It seems her only existence here is confined to this one body. Strange.

So she moves toward a chair, and takes a seat. Acting casual seems to be as easy for her as it ever is.

"Thank you."

[7twistedwishes]

The woman smiles, widely so. "No need to thank me, really." And a hand is offered. "Call me Eshara."

[scarred_grin]

"Serafina."

She shakes her hand; her grip is firm and her nails well-manicured.

"I was only being polite."

[missginnytonic]

Red hair gets her attentions as she smiles looking over.

[scarred_grin]

A fellow redhead can't be all bad, right?

Well, she can think of one she'd rather not run into here, but it's been a long time since she's seen him, so...

"Good evening," she says with a nod and a bit of a smile.

[missginnytonic]

Ginny nods.

"Hello there."

[scarred_grin]

"You look familiar," she says, taking a few steps closer.

Not in the sense that she really thinks they've met, but that when you've met enough people, sometimes they do look alike.

"Have we met? New York, possibly?"

[changeinasnap]

So let's tally this up. Since the first time he cracked open a door that led somewhere it shouldn't have, he's run into:

three (3) of his siblings, in some form or another;
two (2) of the big tricksters on campus;
one (1) of the gods from his own world. (But it's the one who likes him enough to sleep with him, so whatever, no big deal.)

Call this the partridge in a pear tree, maybe. He doesn't know who she is, not even entirely what, but that indefinable quality is sharpening the look she gets from him, like flint struck on a steel blade. Sitting crosslegged on one of the barstools, he takes a long sip from his glass of Atlantean and studies her.

[scarred_grin]

At least she's more pleasant to study in this form than in her actual one?

She's got a lot of experience with that being-watched feeling, so while she notes it, she doesn't let it bother her. As long as it's not a hostile sort of watching, which it doesn't seem to be...

Well, maybe he knows what's going on. People are good for information.

"Fancy meeting you here," she says as she approaches. "I think you still owe me five bucks."

[changeinasnap]

"I think you've got the wrong guy, sweetheart," he returns just as easily, propping one elbow on his knee. "I don't make bets unless I know I'm gonna win."

Which is an easy feat to accomplish with an ego his size.

[scarred_grin]

"That's a pity. Losing now and then makes winning that much sweeter, I've found."

Follow a win far enough and it turns into a failure, and vice-versa. Lose the battle but win the war.

[killitwith_fire]

The door opening is always worth at least a look, as far as Axel's concerned. Just in case.

...Well. It's not anyone he knows, but his eyes linger for a few moments longer than they otherwise might. It's not often he sees hair as red as his own.

[scarred_grin]

It's a good color. And sometimes (but not always) it serves as a warning beacon.

(It usually is, in her case.)

"Evening," she says, giving a polite nod as she tries to get her bearings.

[killitwith_fire]

It's the best colour.

"Yo." He gives her a bit of a wave. "Y'look a bit lost."

[scarred_grin]

"I think I may be," she admits. "At least, I can't say as I've ever been in here before--it looks nice, though. Very warm. Love the colors."

And a certain window catches her attention for a moment. She likes what she sees.