[center][h2][b]Paige Kennedy[/b][/h2][/center]

For a moment Paige could hear the sound of cicadas singing and remember moonlight on the water during a humid night on the gulf bay of Delta City. However the moment, only a few seconds as it were, was swiftly interrupted by a redheaded stranger approaching from the side. Paige turned and looked the woman over briefly. Her eyes scanned up and down immediately recognizing the dress. There wasn’t a woman from the south, that she knew of anyway, that hadn’t been forced to watch [i]Gone with the Wind[/i] at least a few times and if they claimed they didn’t like it then they were likely adopted. It wasn’t hard for her to channel Scarlett O’Hara which was ironic considering how short she was with the barista. “[i]Why, I do declare Mr. Beauregard[/i],” She said. The tone was cordial enough and a dead ringer for Vivien Leigh, but with just a hint of sarcasm as she knew this girl had to be freezing to death in that summer dress. “No, I just had something on my mind, that’s all… I like your dress though,” 

A cold wind gust blew her hair slightly and she felt a set of eyes burning onto her. Instinctively, she turned to catch a dark figure looking directly at her, but the exchange was brief as the party moved between them dancing slowly to the music. She mentally stored the man’s image, though something else still felt off.  It was then as the music faded and some of the crowd drifted from the dance floor that she saw an old familiar face. A few unknowing strangers passed through blocking Paige’s laser-beam like glare. She’d been “complimented” before on the intensity of her gaze. It was sullen, piercing, near physical in the raw contempt it carried. A summoning of some entity from the Pit itself. It was a “talent” that she was aware of and used often. Even some of the hardest of criminals and degenerates, she discovered early on, crumbled under the weight of it. She could see the blood fall from his face and the man turn nearly as white as his apparent date. It gave her a welcome satisfaction and she smirked slightly. To his credit, he still approached.

“Neither of those questions is really your business now is it?” She said, not intimidated in the least by his tone or stature. She wouldn’t give him the solace of a firm answer to either question. Her right hand brushed back her jacket slightly putting her Marshal’s star in full view. She didn’t normally show it off as the manner of some was, but to him she wanted to demonstrate her full authority and the fact that she had a [i]real[/i] career, not one of fashioning toys for playing dress-up with Lord of the Rings nerds. Her thumb rested under her belt between the badge and her gun that remained mostly concealed beneath her jacket. She glanced past him at the frail young girl he’d left pitifully alone on the dance floor with her walking stick and gave her a sly wave keeping the same low smirk. “Your date looks jealous. You’ve already left her just to come confront little old me. Tsk tsk.”     

[@Almalthia][@PrinceAlexus][@RoccanIronclad][@SgtEasy]