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: You wanna know who I really Am? : : Vix'n enters gain', slender bodice o' she clad in form fitting jeans and clingy red tank. Slow sigh passed labios as bruja finds seat at the crowded bar, digits absently drumming cedar wood. Two words passed labios as tender' moved o'er to see what she wanted :'Black Russian.': Her usual drink was ordered as hopeless hazel oculi scanned the room. So far she had no friends, had met basically no one. Labios part slightly as tounge runs cross ivories, taking a lot an appreciated swig o' the thick drink once it arrives. : : Tell me when you find Out. : |