[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/nyuuu83.png[/img][/center]
[center][h1][b][color=#FF007F]L[/color][color=#FF2B65]y[/color][color=#FF564C]s[/color] [color=#FFAC19]S[/color][color=#FFD700]o[/color][color=#D7DF03]l[/color][color=#AFE707]w[/color][color=#88EF0B]y[/color][color=#60F70F]n[/color][color=#39FF13]d[/color][/b][/h1][/center]
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[center][color=39FF14][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Eclipse • [color=FF007F][b]Time:[/b][/color] Nighttime[/center]
[center][color=39FF14][b]Interactions:[/b][/color] [@AuthenticTomb] Volfango [@princess] Angel • [color=FF007F][b]Mentions:[/b][/color] N/A[/center]
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Lys didn’t so much sprawl in the booth as rule it–legs tangled in velvet and shadow, a crooked crown of messy black-green waved tipped askew like she'd just rolled out of sin and hadn’t quite decided if she was done with it yet. Her skin shimmered faintly, kissed by leftover magic and the aftermath of Volfango’s devotion. She stretched languidly, each movement designed to tempt and tease, flashing lace and thigh with a wicked smirk.

She tilted her head at his approach, lips already quirking as his mouth brushed her neck. She didn’t stop him. Of course she didn’t. But when he pulled back, she reached out and tapped two fingers lightly against his lower lip.

[color=39FF14]”You were delicious, love. And lucky,”[/color] she purred, dragging her nails up the open front of his shirt. [color=39FF14]”I’m not always that sweet on the first round.”[/color]

But her gaze drifted–flicked past him–drawn like a flame to a familiar shadow she’d thought long gone.

There she was.

Sicily.

Heat pooled low in her belly. Memories flashed of shared nights, whispered dares, the taste of alcohol and want tangled together. But tonight wasn’t for reunion. No, tonight was for games. For chaos. For seeing just how far they could push this club before the walls themselves begged them to stop.

Her grin sharpened. Darkened. Oh, but wasn’t that just perfect?

[color=39FF14]”A stór,”[/color] she purred with a sultry smirk, [color=39FF14]”I would love a bit more fun... especially if it involves an old flame with a habit of pretending she doesn’t still dream about me.”[/color]

She didn’t wait for permission. She stood–one slow, sinuous stretch that let her skirt ride up high on one thigh–then leaned in close, whispering like a curse just for Volfango.

[color=39FF14]”Lead on.”[/color]  Her hips swayed as she stepped from the booth, letting her magic ripple across the room–a whisper of illusion here, a flicker of heat there, sparking desire like wildfire in their wake. As they moved, she trailed her fingers down Volfango’s spine, nails scraping ever so slightly.

She let her gaze linger on Angel, lips curling into a slow, wicked grin. Not yet, she thought. But soon. Oh, so soon. She wanted them both undone, wanted to watch the night bleed around them while they drowned in pleasure and sin.

Her laughter spilled out into the pulsing air, wild and bright as neon. Tonight was theirs, and Halcyon would remember their names in curses and praises alike. And Lys, ever the chaos-born queen, would ensure every second burned bright enough to sear into eternity.