Closed Inclement Opposition [Rengar]

[Coralie]

Coralie "boogie downed" like she had done only once before in The Weather. It was the tenth, and she was wearing hardly anything. Coralie had gradually been changing over the past season, and her confidence had grown immensely. She was still a bit uncomfortable in The Weather, but at least she wasn't sitting in the corner waiting for someone to drag her out onto the dance floor anymore.

She had danced with numerous men, a woman which Coralie only saw to be platonic while the woman saw Coralie romantically-- that had turned out awkward-- and Coralie had managed to seduce two men and convince them to buy her a drink. This was the first night she would ever (drunkenly) admit that she had a little more than decent body.

She had switched dancing partners that night, so many times she couldn't count. She couldn't find one which she actually clicked with, like the one who she'd met before.

She escaped the arms of an Inartan male very quickly after slapping him. He thought that even though he hadn't said two words to her, he could get his dirty hands and drooling mouth all over her. She made her way, just as fast, to get a drink. She let her eyes wonder over to the drummer and let herself smile a little bit.

She ordered a drink, just said, "Give me whatever you feel like," and sipped it gratefully. She watched the dancers and couldn't help but laugh. They were having so much fun.

[Rengar]

Garren walked into Inclement Weather in nothing more than a smile and a loincloth. This location was not here the last time they'd visited Wind Reach all those decades ago. But now that he saw all the people here, he was glad they had added it. The woman were all in clothing that left very little to the imagination, and Garren was a god among men. He was easily the tallest man there, rippling with muscle, and turning many heads. He sniffed at the air and smelt nothing but sweat, sex, and pheromones. This was his world now, and he knew he could take his pick of a woman. Or women. And the hunt began. He walked through the center, men moving at of his way, and pressing himself against women as he slipped past. He was making his way to the bar, eyes scanning for a prospective partner tonight. He eventually made it, and sat down, a few seats empty on either side of him. The bartender approached him, and rattled off the drinks they had that night. He ordered a Yellow Snow, chuckling at the name of it. And then he waited, wanting to appear aloof. And then two women approached, one sitting on his left, and another on his right. He swiveled around on his stool and got a good look at them both. The one on his left was thin, waify, and homely. She made up for it by wearing a tight band of cloth across her small breasts, though their curvatures were visible both above and below the cloth. He could clearly see her arousal in the way her little buds poked through. She was also wearing a transparent Bryda and what appeared to be no undergarments. The woman on his right was a good bit more beautiful by definition, but there was this demeanor about her that robbed her of it. Her breasts were significantly larger than the other woman's, as were her hips. She was wearing a deeply revealing blouse and a skirt that was high upon her thighs. But there was this look in her eye, a look he'd only seen in whorehouses, and even then only in the most seasoned of veterans. And that look made her uglier in his eyes than all the women in the room. They didn't even greet themselves, didn't say anything to him, just flashed smiles. So Garren returned it in kind, turned around to grab his drink from the bartender, when his nose, blessed by a goddess, picked up a scent that stopped him in his tracks. He ignored the other two women as he inhaled the intoxicating scent. Beauty, lust, innocence and desire, all wrapped up in one lovely scent that overpowered everything else in the room, and plucked him out of the crowd. He looked around, looking past the women, who were looking annoyed at the lack of attention. And that's when he saw her down the bar. Deep red hair, a small thing, almost two feet shorter than himself, and saw her laughing over her drink. He left his two companions, both of whom had seen his gaze and were shooting the woman looks of jealousy and hate. Garren made his way over to her, now knowing that he needed, absolutely needed, to meet her. He stopped at a comfortable distance from her, "Hello, I'm Garren of Riverfall, and I absolutely must meet you. How about we finish our drinks with some pleasantries, then share a dance or two?"

[Coralie]

Strangely enough, she had been completely oblivious to the man who had entered and caught so many eyes, even those of men. She had sipped her drink a little faster now, a quirky thing she did when she really got into the music-- drank to the beat. She held the drink in her right hand, and with the left, she twirled her long dark hair.

People watching had always been a thing of hers, as well as getting lost in her thoughts. She continued to laugh at the stupid dance moves she saw, the rejections she got to witness, and the couples that got interrupted by other, more drunken couples. The latter had happened to her, once before. Though she wasn't really a couple.

That was when she heard a Yellow Snow ordered, which made her laugh even harder at the fact someone would even order something called that. Though she continued her people watching, that action was soon cut off whenever she felt eyes on her, a burning sensation.

The first thing she did notice, though, was the women giving her the dirtiest looks she may have ever received. This gave her the urge to go ask them what the hell rights they had to look at her that way. That was definitely not what she had wanted to see on a night out. Then she saw the reason she was getting those looks, it all made sense, she didn't feel angry anymore, in fact-- she felt a little warmer. She never spoke before, always kept to herself. She never got the time of day.

Now she spoke more, and was confident. And the one time she wasn't speaking or putting herself out there, acting like she used to-- she got attention. She couldn't understand anything. And to think she was getting somewhere in understanding people.

Her eyebrow raised, as she listened to him introduce himself. After he was done speaking, she took this time to look him up and down, look at the fact all he was wearing, a loincloth-- really into the Summer Revelry, she could see-- and then at his drink. So he was the one who ordered the Yellow Snow. A smile played on her lips.

"Garren," she echoed. She let herself close only some the distance between them, her body still facing the bar, her skin only nearly a foot, away from his. "Charming." she let these words linger in the air for a few minutes, sipping her drink until it was almost empty. "I'm Coralie. Of here." she didn't feel the need to be impressive, but she did feel the need to act like something she wasn't only a season ago.

Her eyes fell back on the women Garren had indirectly rejected. "You earned me some disgusting looks, yeah?" Even though she'd been having fun looking for a man she clicked with, it'd seemed she'd found him. She downed the rest of her drink, took his hand in a strong yet ginger grip, and began to lead him onto the dance floor. "Let's make this worth it."

[Rengar]

Garren let her take him by the hand, as he drained his drink quickly and handed the empty glass to a random passerby, and led him out to the dance floor. The song that was currently playing was heavy on the kettle drums, and it reminded him of the time he spent in Taloba. He let go of her hand, his combat oriented mind quickly noting the amount of space they had from their fellow dancers. His hand lightly touched on her left hip, as he moved around to her right, hoping to throw her off guard slightly as he snuck around. He then slipped in front of her, his hips starting to move with the thumping drums. He locked his intense gaze on hers, as he slowly moved into her space, giving her a comfortable amount of space. He wanted to lure her to him, not go chasing her. When he got the song down, he would throw in a stomp, just like how the Myrians danced around their ceremonial bonfires. His dancing advanced into a more masculine, aggressive style. He smiled like a predator as he remembered his days among the Myrians, passionate days. Days full of hunting, where the men were hard and the women harder. The passion there was different from here in Wind Reach. There it was all about the hunt, the chase, but here it was more personal, intimate. And Garren tried to convey that with his eyes, his hips, the way he looked at her as if she were the only woman on earth. She would come to him, he was sure of it. He took another deep breath of her intoxicating scent, allowing it to consume him, to increase the passion of his moves. No conversation needed, their bodies would do the talking from here on out.

[Coralie]

She let him let go of her hand, and watched him trail around her. Reminded her of an animal. She couldn't quite pin the fauna, as it was literally an animal she was thinking of that slithered and snuck, but then she looked at him when she caught his gaze.

She wanted to look away, though it seemed that if she did, she would regret it. Not for herself, but for the mere fact that he was so into it.

Then he reminded her more of just an animal. Her eyebrows raised, and her face showed a clear look of some form of shock. She had never once seen anyone look at someone like this, more had she not seen someone dance the way he danced.

It took her aback and she almost didn't feel comfortable on the dance floor. She realized she was more out of it, and detached. So, she danced with him. She danced as intimately as she could, getting near his face, a little further than that. She would put on such a whimsical dance, not unlike his. She took different movements and patterns that he had danced with, and implicated it into her more delicate dance.

Light stomps to the side, be a pivot point for a frayed pirouette, her hands landing on his shoulders-- to appear on purpose, but was really a way to steady herself--, her head whipping back gracefully to face him, and she looked into his eyes; he was her pinpoint while she spun. She moved her hips side to side, her feet shoulderwidth apart, her hands up in the air to keep her balance. Which was key, because if she didn't, she'd fall over and the whole sex appeal thing would be gone. And she didn't have much dancing skill anyway. Which was probably why her pirouette wasn't as great as she'd hoped it to be.

It didn't seem long until the song was over, that she slowed down. She hadn't put that much effort into a dance, well, ever. She had found herself tired, a little sweaty around the nape of her neck and along her hairline. She shook her head, laughed a little, and then said, "I need a drink." She reached out, squeezed his hand, and then returned to the bar. She didn't know if he would follow her or not, but she did go over his dance in her head. Where was it that he learned that? She definitely hadn't seen it here in WindReach.