Jillian walked along the curb of the sidewalk as though it were a balancing beam, whistling the tune of "Singing in the Rain", a song she had heard in a nigh ancient film about a young ruffian much like herself as she went. She twirled a parasol of her own design and creation over her shoulder, always wanting to travel with functional fashion. As she neared the fight club, Jillian stopped andviewed her reflection in a window,u adjusting her outfit, making sure her corset was laced properly, her skirt was frilled beautifully, and her hat was askew in just the right way. She had to admit, she knew how to dress. Her outfit of this day was of a deep and rich green in color, with a burgundy trim that complimented the outfit stunningly. Happy with the way she looked, Jillian continued toward the club, skipping daintily.

The doors burst open as Jillian made her entrance, attempting to be flashy as usual. As she stepped in she closed her parasol, walking to the bar and snatching up someone's drink, not caring what the drink was or who it previously belonged to. She took a swig as she walked, immediately spittingit out in disgustas she turned and shouted.

"What the fuck is this?! My granny's piss tastes better than this shit!" 

She slammed the glass back down onto the bar, finished with her outburst, and swiveled on her heel, spotting Angel and walking towards her.

"What's cookin', good lookin'?"

She asked this as she placed her palms on the tabletop, her parasol now strapped to her back.

"Anything fun goin' down tonight?"