38th Winter 513 AV
Fallon clicked her neck. It was during the evening lull that the mercenary entered the establishment. Her back straight, her layers donned and neutralising of her features. There was the clink of steel, the unusual glances as she entered and shook off the cold. She smothered the face of business on, the heavy furs shielding her from the usual clean of this niche, and the hair tied fully back in an attempt for her to see clearly. It was obvious she was far from in place, tired - but wary - eyes watching the people, drifting quickly over them in her own state of embarrassment. Unknowing really on where to look, she could already feel that prickling heat forming under her collar. Of course, it was not for pleasure she was here for.
No, tonight she was on contract. And it was only through the request of her client that the pair met here to discuss it further. The Benshira Ruby gave only a questioning look to the androgynous Fallon, eying the various lumps of steel that were attached - taken back almost by her appearance. A gloved hand gave only a gesture of greeting, "I'm meeting someone. There will be no trouble."
She gave a step forward, the sounds of song and burlesque hitting her ears. She did not focus too long on the passing men - only swallowing briefly as she snapped her gaze from a particular specimen. Why of all places did it have to be here? Why? The people, the atmosphere? She almost felt it sticking to her skin as she walked on through, the suffocating scents of sweat and debauchery. When one of them did approach her though, all intents of serving she simply waved them off. Cloak thrown over the back of the chair she sat, her eyes looking ahead but far from anywhere in particular.
Fingers wrung, a rough exhale in an attempt to calm her nerves. It took a lot of focus to sit there and wait, her jaw stiffening as she placed the tulwar in its sheath leaning up against the table. Her back remained straight, eyes alert - she did not want to spend any more time in here than necessary. More so if she was already being thought as being a pretty boy by the staff. Gods be praised if they left her alone to her business.
Muttering she shook her head, "Petching hate this."
No, tonight she was on contract. And it was only through the request of her client that the pair met here to discuss it further. The Benshira Ruby gave only a questioning look to the androgynous Fallon, eying the various lumps of steel that were attached - taken back almost by her appearance. A gloved hand gave only a gesture of greeting, "I'm meeting someone. There will be no trouble."
She gave a step forward, the sounds of song and burlesque hitting her ears. She did not focus too long on the passing men - only swallowing briefly as she snapped her gaze from a particular specimen. Why of all places did it have to be here? Why? The people, the atmosphere? She almost felt it sticking to her skin as she walked on through, the suffocating scents of sweat and debauchery. When one of them did approach her though, all intents of serving she simply waved them off. Cloak thrown over the back of the chair she sat, her eyes looking ahead but far from anywhere in particular.
Fingers wrung, a rough exhale in an attempt to calm her nerves. It took a lot of focus to sit there and wait, her jaw stiffening as she placed the tulwar in its sheath leaning up against the table. Her back remained straight, eyes alert - she did not want to spend any more time in here than necessary. More so if she was already being thought as being a pretty boy by the staff. Gods be praised if they left her alone to her business.
Muttering she shook her head, "Petching hate this."