As Percy took a firm hold of Nerissa's arm and guided her through the corridor, her eyes roamed over the elderly pair standing nearby, their expressions filled with curiosity and judgment. Nerissa's lips curled into a wicked smile, her voice dripping with a hedonistic implication as she couldn't resist the urge. [color=#e25041]"Nothing like a good rumble!"[/color] she sing-songed, her words laced with childish carelessness. She revelled in the shock that crossed their faces and couldn't care less what some filthy mudblood thought about her as she knew her remark had struck a nerve. It pleased her to assert her present, even in the most mundane of encounters.

That was how they had always worked, her brother and herself, bound by a shared history of pain and survival. From their early days, their childhood had been marred by a relentless storm of sadness and despair. Their father, a man consumed by his own demons, inflicted beatings and spewed venomous words at young Nerissa, leaving scars that ran deeper than any physical wounds.

But in the midst of that darkness, her brother became her guardian, a shield against their father's wrath. He protected her with unwavering determination, shielding her from the brunt of their father's abuse. Through his acts of defiance and sacrifice, he forged a bond with Nerissa that transcended their troubled upbringing.

Their heated arguments, although tumultuous, were born out of a shared pain and a desire to break free from the chains of their traumatic past. In those moments, their voices clashed like thunder, but their bond remained unbreakable. However, on that fateful day, the day when the Aurors cornered them, her brother made a choice that shattered their fragile equilibrium. In a cruel twist of fate, he sacrificed her like a lamb for slaughter, leaving her to face the consequences alone.

Nerissa will never forget those final words he uttered, right before he vanished from her sight. The realization pierced her heart with a feeling of deep sorrow, profound grief for the loss of the protector she had relied on for so long. In his absence, she felt a profound sense of abandonment and a lingering ache for the childhood they had both endured. Haunted by the memories of their shared pain and her brother's desertion, Nerissa's path took a darker turn. The wounds of their past now reopened, fueling her hunger for power and her thirst for vengeance. She would make her brother understand the depth of her sorrow, the weight of his betrayal.

As she walked the path of darkness alone, the echoes of her childhood sorrows still lingered. But instead of finding solace, the depth of her sorrow twisted into a thorned hatred for her brother. The wounds of their past, once tender and raw, festered with resentment and betrayal. Every painful memory, every act of protection turned manipulation, fueled her burning rage. The love she had once held for her brother transformed into a twisted desire for retribution. No longer would she seek his understanding; she would make him suffer the same anguish she had endured.

With an air of twisted satisfaction, she continued walking alongside Percy, her gaze fixed ahead. The insult lingered in the air, a reminder of her unapologetic nature and her disdain for those she deemed beneath her. She relished in the discomfort she had caused, delighting in the power she held to provoke and unsettle those around her. Nerissa's eyes gleamed with a mix of cruel amusement and predatory anticipation as they made their way to their destination. She revelled in the chaos and unpredictability of the situation, her mind already racing with possibilities and schemes. She was determined to seize every opportunity in this twisted dance they had been thrust into, savouring the intoxicating blend of danger and desire that swirled around them.

As Percy inquired about the use of actual magic by Abigail Thompson, Nerissa's amusement deepened. She leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs and fixing him with a smouldering gaze. [color=#e25041]"Oh, dear Percy,"[/color] she purred, her voice dripping with a seductive undertone. [color=#e25041]"Magic can take many forms, can't it? Sometimes the most dangerous and thrilling magic is the one that hides in plain sight."[/color]

She let the implication hang in the air, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips. However, her infectious smirk quickly faded as a wave of revulsion washed over her. [color=#e25041]"Trusting filthy mudbloods with the art of mixology? How utterly revolting,"[/color] she added, her tone filled with a toxic superiority that oozed contempt towards everyone around them. [color=#e25041]"But, by all means, indulge yourself with their filth."[/color] And just like that, the honied words that had been spun with such velvet passion showed a glimpse of the venomous darkness that lurked beneath the surface. Nerissa revelled in the duality of her nature, relishing in the power she held to charm and cut, to entice and repulse. In this twisted dance of seduction and disdain, she was the conductor, orchestrating a symphony of manipulation and cruelty.

With both legs crossed, she placed them up on the table in front of them leaning her head on top of her fist as her elbow rested on the armrest.

The room itself exuded an air of opulence and extravagance. Bathed in warm, golden hues, the walls were adorned with luxurious tapestries that depicted scenes of ancient myth and wonder. Soft, ambient lighting cast a magical glow, adding an ethereal ambience to the space. The stage, expansive and meticulously designed, commanded attention at the centre of the room. Its polished wooden floor reflected the light, creating a mesmerizing shimmer. Intricate patterns and symbols adorned the stage, hinting at the arcane secrets that would be unveiled within its confines.

A backdrop of cascading curtains in deep shades of red, velvety and alluring, added a touch of theatrical flair. They whispered tales of hidden realms and uncharted territories, captivating the imagination of all who gazed upon them. The stage itself was flanked by imposing pillars, their surfaces embellished with intricate carvings of mystical creatures and magical sigils. These pillars seemed to possess a life of their own, emanating an aura of ancient power and mysticism.

An array of colourful and ornate props, carefully arranged, awaited their moment to shine. Gleaming crystal balls, elegant top hats, decks of cards adorned with intricate artwork, and various other tools of illusion were strategically placed, ready to be woven into the tapestry of the performance. As the audience settled into their seats, anticipation filled the air. The room hummed with palpable energy, and shared excitement for the wonders that were about to unfold. The stage was set, the room alive with the promise of extraordinary feats and captivating illusions.

In this enchanting Las Vegas stage, reality blurred and dreams came to life. It was a space where ordinary boundaries faded away, and the extraordinary took centre stage, leaving the audience spellbound and awestruck.