welcome to the party - anyone

[Wolfbane]

“Well Fuck me,” Bane thinks as the unknown woman snags his drink, and he can’t help but mean it literally. He watches the way her throat pulses as she down the liquid, pure fire in her eyes when they snap back to gaze at him with tepid interest. She slides past him, (he can’t blame her, the ice-breaker had been less than smooth) but he appreciates the exit anyways, finding himself flopping back into a waiting chair to watch her go all the way.

He half expects her to join the rest, crews of them slowly losing sobriety and clothes to take a chance at the pool, and if she had jumped in he’d be up and sifting through those lost clothes for valuable articles but instead (and much to his delight) the odd lady dips at the waist to lock lips with an equally attractive blonde. “I have got to get myself invited to more of these.” Bane mutters with the shake of his head.

One moment, the femme fatal motions to him but for her, he’s got hours in wait. Besides, as the girl in carnation drifts to the bar he can find himself a good view of Rey (distracted, it would seem) and a few other high up on the priority list. @[Svedka], renowned and gorgeous as ever, @[Ivar] Stillwater (the lucky bastard) with some gits hands around his … wait … that was @[Wishbone], wasn’t it? The same Leader of the mercenary Leviathans?

Couldn’t be. No way.

Somehow another drink finds its way to his palm and Bane tips it back, watching with intrigue at the way these people let loose when they feel no other eyes are judging them. They have the affluence, the riches and abilities, just not the good sense for decorum but hey … who was he to complain for the handouts? The alcohol was the tits and for one night at least, he could pretend as good as the best of them.

When at last the sultry woman joins him again, Bane replies with a “Breck, truly a pleasure to meet you.” Somewhat mocking her own insulation of his offer at a nickname earlier while one of his heavily inked hands slides beneath his jacket lapel to produce the lighter she’d guessed at. The other takes her drink offering. “I’m not so sure about reputation, though.” He chuckles lowly, flicking the apparatus to life and holding it near her expectant cigarette. “Yours is already blowing mine out of the water. Am I barking up the wrong tree?” He asks, lightheartedly taking a jab at her earlier tete-a-tete with the two women in the pool.

“Or am I judging a book by its cover?” He tries, closing the lighter before dispelling it away to some hidden pocket again. “Not that I mind, there’s nothing quite as sensuous as a woman confident in her sexuality.”

@[Breckin]