dahlia
You can't buy this fineness
"Thank you for the invitation, dear. You would be shocked at how few I receive." Dahlia, of course, simply appears beside Flora when the time suits her, brushing some non-existent bit of dust from her outfit as she arrives. Clad in sleek, dark pants and a corset embroidered with threads of gold and violet so dark it's almost black, she offers a too-comfortable smile to the Doubletake and gestures for her to lead the way inside.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asks, spending a moment or two enjoying the salt on the breeze and the gentle heat in the air, letting her hands drift along the dark wood frame of the door, before finally stepping in and taking in The Hanged Man in all its (empty) glory. "You didn't have to close your business just for me. I would have quite enjoyed the crowd."
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asks, spending a moment or two enjoying the salt on the breeze and the gentle heat in the air, letting her hands drift along the dark wood frame of the door, before finally stepping in and taking in The Hanged Man in all its (empty) glory. "You didn't have to close your business just for me. I would have quite enjoyed the crowd."
Let me see the heat get to it
