[color=FFF2D8][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/WHxJd1p.png[/img][/center]
[center][h1][color=7DB9B6]Elodie Ashbourne[/color][/h1][/center]
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[center][color=D9A0B0][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Velvet Bite• [color=D9A0B0][b]Time:[/b][/color] Dusk[/center]
[center][color=D9A0B0][b]Interactions:[/b][/color] [@FunnyGuy] Sean • [color=D9A0B0][b]Mentions:[/b][/color] [@Infinite Cosmos] Lucian[/center]
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Elodie leaned back into the booth with a small giggle and a sigh, letting the scotch warm her from the inside out. She gave her glass a lazy swirl, eyes following the slow ripple like it might offer her a hint on how to act in places like this.

[color=D9A0B0]“Well,”[/color] she said with mock solemnity, [color=D9A0B0]“I survived a shady supernatural lounge, called myself a pantry item, got Pirates-quoted by a broody werewolf with daddy-issues energy, and earned free scotch for my trouble.”[/color] She raised the glass toward him in a tiny toast, [color=D9A0B0]“That’s gotta count for, like, one punch on a loyalty card, right?”[/color]

Then, without much ceremony, she tipped back her glass and downed the rest in one smooth motion. It wasn’t elegant, but it was decisive…and it earned a faint hiss as the burn hit. She set the glass down with a soft clink, expression flickering between amusement and something harder to place.

She turned toward him with a lopsided smile, the kind that tugged more on one cheek than the other. [color=D9A0B0]“You really think I did alright back there?”[/color] she asked, a touch quieter now, as if the question had been sitting just behind her teeth for a while. Then, smirking just enough to soften the question, [color=D9A0B0]“Because I’m pretty sure Lucian’s going to have recurring nightmares about cinnamon and cardigans.”[/color]

Her gaze drifted toward the lounge beyond their booth, where shadows danced with glamoured light and secrets clung to every low laugh. Then she looked back at Sean…or Hollow, technically. But here in this booth, with the pressure momentarily lifted, it was easier to just see him.

Her smile faded into something gentler. More sincere.

[color=D9A0B0]“So what do you think really happened to the man that was murdered?”[/color] she asked quietly, tilting her head, voice low. Her tone stayed light, but there was no hiding the flicker of unease behind her eyes. She wasn’t just asking for the sake of conversation.

She was asking because if something like that could happen to someone so powerful… what chance did people like her stand?[/color]