
It was a pleasant enough affair, the walk to the Pig’s Foot, with their entrance and passing by causing the particularly stirring reaction she had hoped for. Zandelia knew that she could turn heads if it was required, but the power that two suitably dressed and proportioned women had increased their chances exponentially. And what a show they caused too, dress hems swaying slightly in the breeze and necklines all but low enough to be absolutely pointless when pulled down, just a little. With Revy in tow and silent as the grave it was not too difficult to feel just how much the warrior woman was seething on the inside. Still, whenever Zandelia glanced over at the other woman she could see a small flicker of enjoyment in her eyes, or enthrallment at the very least.
She might even find she comes to like doing this every so often. Powerful feeling indeed, when you can turn a man around your fingers over and over again just by looking they way you do she thought to herself as they entered the tavern to a breathy silence littered with hissed words and furtive glances. It was perfect, all too perfect.
“Just the one room please, we like to be together in the dark, but don’t tell anyone else that” she all but whispered to the man behind the bar, watching with satisfaction as his look glazed slightly and yet more conversations nearby changed their topics.
It was a simple enough matter to sashay up the stairs and secret their possessions within the room, under the single bed, and behind the scant amount of furniture. It was not particularly required to hide it all away but it made her feel a little better, perhaps a tab more controlled and prepared. It paid to think ahead before your enemy had an idea. If they searched their room for some reason they would be hard pressed to easily find their weapons and armor with a brief scanning look. No, they would have to search and that would take time they could use if it came to it. Zandelia also took a few moments to arrange her hair into a slightly more tousled and messed affair, arranging the cut of the dr3ess to show off as much as possible whilst still leaving the barest minimum of support and modesty. She merely looked at Revy, not expecting her to do the same Her very ample presence was enough to compliment Zandelia’s abilities for their task ahead. And so it was with a soft, sultry pout and some over-acted sensuality that she entered the common room once more. She took care to brush gently past the slaver occupants, dirtying her soul as she did so bit by tiny bit. As she had her bottom pinched she merely gave an affectionate giggle and wave of her finger instead of the punch she wished to dole out, and so on t went as they ordered a drink at the bar and took seats towards the middle of the room.
All the better to hear what they are saying, to gain their attention, to pry information from their lips with encouraged bravado. Slavers, less than dogs and dangerous as vipers. They’ll take us if they can but won’t 3even consider it if they think they will get what they want without a fight. Cowards by nature bt well placed for information. Necessary bastards indeed she thought to herself as she sipped her wine and felt a body sit down next to her.
“Here lady, I reckon me and you could have a good time. Whaddya say?” came the all too familiar drunken slurring. She merely smiled back and tilted her head to play with her hair, exposing the smooth skin of her neck.
“Oh, I don’t know. I think I’d have too much energy for you my dear, only the strongest have the most stamina for a night with me. Why, there was this guard once..” she started, attempting to lead the conversation.
“Guard! Pfah! Guards are grunts, spineless arses! Now me, I’m more than a guard, much more! I’ve personally taken care of 50 m3en, at once” the bravado kicked in, his silver tongue far from silver.
“Ooooh! Fifty! How did you do that? Why? You must be a dangerous man to know,” she spoke, her hands now around his shoulders and stroking through his hair, “I find dangerous men to be most…exciting” she breathed into his ear. “Prey, tell me your name mighty man” she asked him as she tried to k3eep her revulsion in check as she saw out of the corner of her eye Revy standing up and turning around to face another. A trickle of trepidation set in as the man spoke his name to be Regoran – a name she had garnered from the torture to be one of the chief bodyguards of their target.
There could have been more she teased from his lips if Revy were not about to incite a brawl by facing off against two of the other slavers, hard men indeed they looked to be. She pushed hey way off of Regoran, firmly but politely with a promise to return as she all but latched herself onto Revy’s right side before she could throw the beginnings of a punch. She let her left arms lay across the woman’s back and her right to trace across her stomach a little as she looked at the man in front of them and gave a shake f the head.
“You’re up the wrong skirt fellows, as beautiful as she is and as…wonderful…as you seem, she only uncrosses her legs for me,” she told them, drastic times calling for drastic measures, and before Revy could so much as protest she found Zandelia’s lips locked to her own, a last silent plea to the warrior to stop fighting and be calm – altogether blowing the idea of confrontation out of the mind with a surprise she would never feasibly forget.
“Please, play nice or you’ll get me killed as well as yourself” she whispered into her woman’s ear as the men around them cheered, the tension dispersed rapidly enough to prevent any fracas.
