[right][h2][color=999999]Lost in Translation[/color][/h2][@silver21][@Tlazolteotl][/right]

[color=lavender]‘[b]Silver Blade[/b],’ said Teresa, ‘[b]but just Silver is fine.[/b]’

She nodded when Sirpa decided to stay with the man, and turned away from the pair. The bass of the pounding music never let up as she made her way along the fringes of the dance crowd, trawling the outskirts of the club venue. Bright lights, dark corners, murmurs of conversation lingering below the chatter of the crowd – it was the kind of scene that Caden would have enjoyed, Teresa thought. Not for the dancing or the drinking, but for the information he could slip out of people with nothing but his smile and a bit of casual conversation. His easy-going personality would’ve sped things up a bit, here.

Seeing as he [i]wasn’t[/i] here, however, Teresa would make do with observing. Getting a lay of the land. Was there more to the club than the seats, the dance floor, the bar? Anything – or any[i]one[/i], perhaps – oddly symbolic, like the staplers of the corporate battlefield? As Teresa explored the venue, an idle thought crossed her mind: that perhaps ridding the thumping music was the answer, if only so the man might feel inclined to speak in the ensuing quiet.

[i]I know[/i] I [i]would appreciate the quiet[/i], she thought.[/color]