Thalassa
Standing there, killing time,
Can't commit to anything but a crime
Can't commit to anything but a crime
The curve of her lips is sharp and eager as she pushes away from the bar, winking to clear any negativity that might weigh them down. "Or set their hormones racing." What man doesn't like a little girl on girl action?
She takes another sip of her bourbon before setting the glass aside, a similar trophy for her to retrieve later. "Try not to be too surprised when I put you on your ass." There's confidence in the subtle shift of her muscles, the way her tail flicks slowly behind her, a stubborn cockiness that comes with having proved herself in just about every arena. It's a lazy kind of tension that dares people to underestimate her.
Following Colt through the growing crowd of people, she moves like smoke, black and hinting at danger when she brushes enticingly against someone who catches her attention - her opposite in many ways that she wouldn't mind indulging in. Sure she's draw his eye, Thal is close at the woman's back, readjusting her thoughts. "Heard. Death is off limits." But the sharp edge of her gaze says that everything else is fair game. The fountain is pretty strong, and she's willing to take as much as she gives.
The men look intrigued by the new contenders, quickly closing the circle around them to make room for the growing observers, not that Thal minds. She's focused on the opponent in front of her, planning out what lines she probably shouldn't cross. Of the eight daggers strapped in various places visible and hidden across her body, she skims past the obsidian blades at her hips for a simpler pair sitting at the bottom of her thighs. They slide from their sheaths with a wicked glint of the silver metal, nearly matching the flash of her fangs as she grins. "Don't make it too easy for me."
Then she's moving, quick as a whip to slash her knife at Colt's ribs.
1/4
She takes another sip of her bourbon before setting the glass aside, a similar trophy for her to retrieve later. "Try not to be too surprised when I put you on your ass." There's confidence in the subtle shift of her muscles, the way her tail flicks slowly behind her, a stubborn cockiness that comes with having proved herself in just about every arena. It's a lazy kind of tension that dares people to underestimate her.
Following Colt through the growing crowd of people, she moves like smoke, black and hinting at danger when she brushes enticingly against someone who catches her attention - her opposite in many ways that she wouldn't mind indulging in. Sure she's draw his eye, Thal is close at the woman's back, readjusting her thoughts. "Heard. Death is off limits." But the sharp edge of her gaze says that everything else is fair game. The fountain is pretty strong, and she's willing to take as much as she gives.
The men look intrigued by the new contenders, quickly closing the circle around them to make room for the growing observers, not that Thal minds. She's focused on the opponent in front of her, planning out what lines she probably shouldn't cross. Of the eight daggers strapped in various places visible and hidden across her body, she skims past the obsidian blades at her hips for a simpler pair sitting at the bottom of her thighs. They slide from their sheaths with a wicked glint of the silver metal, nearly matching the flash of her fangs as she grins. "Don't make it too easy for me."
Then she's moving, quick as a whip to slash her knife at Colt's ribs.
1/4
