(Elvira) [i]"Prego. May I know your name?"[/i]

The blunt glowed a brilliant orange as Rathe burned out the last of the hashish in a lingering drag, which she held, eyes closed, for a good while before letting the smoke escape slowly through her nostrils.  "Rathe."  Opening her eyes, she looked at the woman who'd served the wine, studying her momentarily before reaching across to run her finger gently along the outline of the sun tattooed across the woman's shoulder.  "That's nice work."  Rathe's finger trailed down her biceps along the paisley design before disengaging.  She'd been leaning back against the bar, from behind it, and hadn't seen the other women approach.  Roused would be the word for her reaction, since she was high enough to not be startled when the voices rose behind her.

"Rathe," she offered, flatly, as she looked past the other women toward the men seated in the parlor proper.  "Credo che stiamo andando per rendere più facile per loro stasera."  When there was no reply, she tossed back the wine and chased it with an exasperated, "Cazzo! Sorry. I said we're making it easy for them tonight."  Indeed, the ladies had all congregated around the bar and were happily drinking away.  "I hope they'll be gentlemen," she added, "but I wouldn't count on it."