[mature] You are cordially invited [Any & All]

[Wolfbane]

A casual look of disappointment flashes over Rey’s cherry-bombs lips. She preferred the cat mask to whatever the woman had on underneath. It hid a rather obtruse forehead.

“I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink there, darling.” Rey scoffs, flicking her fingers towards the rough couple as if she could brush their lower-class status free from her hands. What she’d stolen was money, cold hard cash, and directly from the pocket of the poor bloke kitty-cat’s beau had shoved. Tough luck rested on her accuser tonight, though. Rey had stashed the nick somewhere not even God himself might find it, search high and low. “And if you’d like a strip show, that’ll cost you.” She winked, patting her coiffed hair back into place.

Without so much as a second glance, she glides away.

To her side there seems to be another tussle; twins dressed alike but altogether impossibly different in age seem to be in an altercation with another male, clearly overcompensating, for his date’s approval. As the girl attempts to calm the situation, Rey eases into the scene herself, arm twining over the bicep of the elder gentlemen in maroon. “There’s too much party left for a brawl this early. Don’t you agree?”

Her gray eyes flashing, she arches her chin up to where Arthas stares down Vulgaris.

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Meanwhile, bane was enjoying the solid five seconds of his mystery date’s embrace. He rather enjoyed the way his hands could cup the soft curve of her hips, just a hair away from suggestive, and that she seemed to like the way their chests pressed flush against one another. Her corset-style ensemble felt stiff and yet smooth; it was easy to tell quality from cheap whenever Wolfbane’s fingers were involved. Perhaps the best part was the woman who fitted it, though. Her nose was shy but held character, a sweet cupid’s bow pulling her lush mouth almost into a pout. The chin and apple-round cheeks that supported dashing, warm brown eyes only slightly belied the angelic shape uncompleted by her mask.

He felt on the verge of a revelation.
Of course the rest of them had to ruin the moment.

The tall gent in the navy suit felt her hand grasp his own, and with little to no protest her followed behind the rushing sound of her skirts and clicking heels. Her curvaceous form, proportioned like Aphrodite herself, slipped eagerly through a throng of people and though Bane himself couldn’t squeeze through without a few mishaps, he marveled at the way she commanded herself and those around her with silent approval. “This one could lead me to hell.” He mused quietly, a grin pulling at his lips behind the mask when she forces them behind a heavy, velour curtain and out into an abandoned patio.

Still tethered to her grip, Bane swings deftly around to face the masked goddess and extends one of his suited arms, palm resting on the stone beside her dark-framed face. “Parties usually have lots of those.” He chuckles lowly, unsure if she’s aware that he caught the remnants of her grand speech while standing in line for coat check. Why the party if people were the problem?

He’s not looking for a fight though, not here - not with her. There’s a complete resonance of familiarity rolling in waves off this dame, and there’s nothing more Wolfbane enjoys than breaking a curiously wonderful puzzle. A spat, silly or not, would draw away from that attention. “I’m more than inclined to tell you about it, too,” Bane replies to her prodding statement, his free hand rising to slide up her hip and rest at the small of her waist, “but this damn thing …” He points to the gilded monstrosity covering his face.

For a second it looks like he’s pondering, the mixed olive hue of his eyes roaming over the soft waves of her hair. Inspiration strikes him, and he finds her intense stare again. “Do me a solid, take it off?” Her mystery companion offers, the glint of a mischievousness sparkling at the edge of his vision.

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@[Heartfire] @[Arthas] @[Breckin]