I hope you dance

I'm bringin' sexy back
Them other fuckers don't know how to act

Call Koa a herbaceous preserver because flowery nonsense is his jam. He brightens to see Nova pick her way through the crowd, glitter forming a comet's tail as she winds over the dance floor and toward his perch beside the bar. "Couldn't stay away?" he greets the girl, raising an eyebrow in playful challenge as Nova swirls into existence like a hypomanic whirling dervish. "Your drink, my lady." He pushes the ruby-red spritz and its sprig of rosemary over the bar toward her, raising his own to take a sip when she brings up dragon-snap and, well.

Cue spit-take.

"You mean snapdragon? That's definitely not a dance move. It's..." For a brief few seconds Koa works his jaw, clearly at a loss for how to explain the dangers of drugs to someone like Nova. "It's a drug that'll make you feel pretty great, but also makes people do a lot of dumb shit." Gods know Koa's done more than his fair share, after taking a bump (or three). "Lowers inhibitions, that kind'a thing. Maybe a bit ambitious for your first night in the Houses." But then again they're both young and stupid, and Koa has less than a stump of a leg to stand on when it comes to making the smarter choice.

Koa Carpenter

If that's your girl, better watch your back
'Cause she'll burn it up for me, and that's a fact