[/img]"http://i.imgur.com/PcAJTGe.png" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;" style="avatar]
Lilly Vander had been dealt a crap hand in life, the cards not coming up double aces at all the past few years. Valesport had been but one of many stops on her trek in the last couple of weeks in her current job, mission, whatever title they slapped on her employment dossier. When one worked under the berth of Silky Johnson, details were best kept out of the equation. What he was having the lioness do was questionable at best, but at least it beat serving tables and scamming people for all they were worth in blackjack at the Snake Eyes, though not by much. Her figurative leash was held tight, and should she stray too far from her designations there would be hell to pay when she returned. Like her prior visits, she was here to scout out yet another seedy den of various debauchery and illegal activities.
The Deltin Royale
Well worn black running sneakers came to a halt and those haggard looking orbs peered at the massive structure overlooking the sea. Thankfully, it wasn't as gaudy as Silky's monstrosity, that would be a feat unto itself. Still a ways off, a shaking hand grabbed at an orange tinted bottle from within one of many pockets of her leather jacket to match her shoes. Continuing her steps, the woman struggled at the cap for but a moment before popping it off, the white top falling to the sidewalk behind her. Inside were various pills of differentiating markings and color. What exact concoction she was ingesting had long been lost on her addled mind. One to keep the physical pain away, this time her bruised ribs. Bastards at the fight club down by the docks decided to play coy and double team her, a baseball bat to her side hadn't quite been enough to bring her to her knees, but it did give her reason enough to be a bit too handsy with their little bats after she laid them both on their asses. Another was to distract her thoughts from everything she had gone through in her employment, which was more than enough to get her psychiatrist had prescribe these lovely blue candies. The next helped in perking her up; lengthy nights and short days meant for an abysmal sleep schedule, and provided less rest than she needed, but these made it somewhat bearable. There were a duo to help with the side effects of all the others as well as manage an underlying health condition.
The last one she crushed under powerful jaws was just there to fuck her up.
Lilly's face a mix between a grin and close to breaking down in a wailing sob, she trotted onwards. This would be enough to get her through the night, the empty container left in her wake. Stepping up to the entrance she'd be greeted by tweedledee and tweedledum dum, as she'd come to describe any set of bouncers that stood in her path. Here she hoped her blood would let her pass without issue, as was the point of Silky sending her to this particular establishment. Lilly, behind that red lipstick and sharp features was a Simba, a werelion of the Bastet. This here Deltin Royale, was a hub for the Bagheera clan in the area. If she was not here for conflict, then by all means the doors should part for their shared shifter genus, if not then she'd bust them down herself. Whether or not she wanted a brawl could be up for debate, but despite getting hard stares from the two, they did let her by without incident.
This was a casino, there was no doubt about that. Chain smokers seated at the slot machines, high rollers gambling away fortunes at craps, the dreaded blackjack tables she hated dealing for. Free drinks for all parties to have them just sober enough to continue throwing away their money, but beyond arguing with common sense. Her attire didn't compare to the socialites; the men in tuxedos or three piece suits, the women clad in precious stones and garments that put her slacks and tucked in maroon dress shirt to shame.
There was little care in how Lilly appeared compared to the crowd around her. Her lioness pride had been beaten into submission by an oppressive assortment of employers and prescription drug abuse. Right now, the huntress was actually feeling pretty good, riding atop a cloud that she hopefully not fall through just yet. The electronic buzz and shouts of patrons grated on that ethereal rift she was coasting, and it wasn't likely she'd grab the attention of the one she was sent for.
An actual bar that was further situated towards the back suited her needs in this momentary break from the daze clouding her diluted green hues. Sitting on the stool, she was barely able to stop herself from spinning off of it with how much gusto she placed into the maneuver. "<font color="e30024]Manhattan. Stick to the book, I'm not here to see how you think it should be served.[/font]" A sigh given to the bartender whose patience must have been better than hers, not that such a praise was difficult; Lilly had loosened the teeth of customers for less when she walked the floors.
Still, even with her jarring introduction she received swift service with a smile, so she had to allow the bartender a nod of commendation for that endeavor. The second the brown liquor passed her lips though, the compliments were immediately revoked with a spit across the finely varnished counter. "<font color="e30024]You call this a Manhattan[/font]?" The chilled glass emptied itself in the motion of being thrown against the line of bottles behind the man to her front, a loud crash following as the force knocked several containers to the ground. "<font color="e30024]Again, and don't fuck around. We're not talking rocket science here[/font]!" Her canines flared in a less than romantic snarl, filed nails digging into the expensive wood that they rested on. Perhaps she was looking for a bit of a scuffle tonight, who knew?
Lilly Vander had been dealt a crap hand in life, the cards not coming up double aces at all the past few years. Valesport had been but one of many stops on her trek in the last couple of weeks in her current job, mission, whatever title they slapped on her employment dossier. When one worked under the berth of Silky Johnson, details were best kept out of the equation. What he was having the lioness do was questionable at best, but at least it beat serving tables and scamming people for all they were worth in blackjack at the Snake Eyes, though not by much. Her figurative leash was held tight, and should she stray too far from her designations there would be hell to pay when she returned. Like her prior visits, she was here to scout out yet another seedy den of various debauchery and illegal activities.
The Deltin Royale
Well worn black running sneakers came to a halt and those haggard looking orbs peered at the massive structure overlooking the sea. Thankfully, it wasn't as gaudy as Silky's monstrosity, that would be a feat unto itself. Still a ways off, a shaking hand grabbed at an orange tinted bottle from within one of many pockets of her leather jacket to match her shoes. Continuing her steps, the woman struggled at the cap for but a moment before popping it off, the white top falling to the sidewalk behind her. Inside were various pills of differentiating markings and color. What exact concoction she was ingesting had long been lost on her addled mind. One to keep the physical pain away, this time her bruised ribs. Bastards at the fight club down by the docks decided to play coy and double team her, a baseball bat to her side hadn't quite been enough to bring her to her knees, but it did give her reason enough to be a bit too handsy with their little bats after she laid them both on their asses. Another was to distract her thoughts from everything she had gone through in her employment, which was more than enough to get her psychiatrist had prescribe these lovely blue candies. The next helped in perking her up; lengthy nights and short days meant for an abysmal sleep schedule, and provided less rest than she needed, but these made it somewhat bearable. There were a duo to help with the side effects of all the others as well as manage an underlying health condition.
The last one she crushed under powerful jaws was just there to fuck her up.
Lilly's face a mix between a grin and close to breaking down in a wailing sob, she trotted onwards. This would be enough to get her through the night, the empty container left in her wake. Stepping up to the entrance she'd be greeted by tweedledee and tweedledum dum, as she'd come to describe any set of bouncers that stood in her path. Here she hoped her blood would let her pass without issue, as was the point of Silky sending her to this particular establishment. Lilly, behind that red lipstick and sharp features was a Simba, a werelion of the Bastet. This here Deltin Royale, was a hub for the Bagheera clan in the area. If she was not here for conflict, then by all means the doors should part for their shared shifter genus, if not then she'd bust them down herself. Whether or not she wanted a brawl could be up for debate, but despite getting hard stares from the two, they did let her by without incident.
This was a casino, there was no doubt about that. Chain smokers seated at the slot machines, high rollers gambling away fortunes at craps, the dreaded blackjack tables she hated dealing for. Free drinks for all parties to have them just sober enough to continue throwing away their money, but beyond arguing with common sense. Her attire didn't compare to the socialites; the men in tuxedos or three piece suits, the women clad in precious stones and garments that put her slacks and tucked in maroon dress shirt to shame.
There was little care in how Lilly appeared compared to the crowd around her. Her lioness pride had been beaten into submission by an oppressive assortment of employers and prescription drug abuse. Right now, the huntress was actually feeling pretty good, riding atop a cloud that she hopefully not fall through just yet. The electronic buzz and shouts of patrons grated on that ethereal rift she was coasting, and it wasn't likely she'd grab the attention of the one she was sent for.
An actual bar that was further situated towards the back suited her needs in this momentary break from the daze clouding her diluted green hues. Sitting on the stool, she was barely able to stop herself from spinning off of it with how much gusto she placed into the maneuver. "<font color="e30024]Manhattan. Stick to the book, I'm not here to see how you think it should be served.[/font]" A sigh given to the bartender whose patience must have been better than hers, not that such a praise was difficult; Lilly had loosened the teeth of customers for less when she walked the floors.
Still, even with her jarring introduction she received swift service with a smile, so she had to allow the bartender a nod of commendation for that endeavor. The second the brown liquor passed her lips though, the compliments were immediately revoked with a spit across the finely varnished counter. "<font color="e30024]You call this a Manhattan[/font]?" The chilled glass emptied itself in the motion of being thrown against the line of bottles behind the man to her front, a loud crash following as the force knocked several containers to the ground. "<font color="e30024]Again, and don't fuck around. We're not talking rocket science here[/font]!" Her canines flared in a less than romantic snarl, filed nails digging into the expensive wood that they rested on. Perhaps she was looking for a bit of a scuffle tonight, who knew?
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