[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Dzs2P6q.png[/img][/center]
[b]“Of course. Some things may never happen again, after all.”[/b]

And with that, Lorelei turned her attention back to the task at hand. While Barbatos and Dezzie were both decked out in alt-rock punk that was undercut with some softer, cute elements, Lorelei chose juxtaposition herself, strutting alongside them in a luxuriously white dress that hugged her curves, while a faux-fur coat was draped over her shoulders, breaking up that otherwise lethal silhouette. The thigh holster was brazenly displayed along the slit of her dress, while the wide-brimmed sun hat that hid one eye simply added to the deadly allure, the mystery of not knowing when exactly she’d hang you upside down and lower you into a cement mixer.

There were times where Lorelei liked to play along, and times where she’d indulge in her own whims. In this case, of course? Well, it was the Floating District, and no matter how much of a fraction her income was when compared to the higher-earners of the hostess clubs and strip bars, she certainly couldn’t let herself be shown up, no?

[b]“No reason to split up somewhere like this, after all,”[/b] Lorelei spoke, casting a knowing glance towards Dezzie. [b]“Wouldn’t want Barbatos to go get snatched up, would we?”[/b]

With that, she strutted off, knowing exactly where to begin their investigations into the root of the Saniwa’s demise.

…

[i]7th Haven[/i] occupied the liminal space between true luxury and common decadence. A mid-tier establishment by design rather than by the lack of business acumen, it grasped upon the classiness of a parlor meant for businessmen to relax amongst women more beautiful than their wives, while still being able to kick up the raunchiness during themed nights or the hours past the witching hour. Incandescent lights lent their warmth to velvet and brass and at this time of day, though the gleaming poles weren’t accompanied by dancers, an androgynous pianist sat before their grand instrument still, playing a melody at once nostalgic and foreign to the admiration of the layabouts who could afford to drink during the day.

It was in contrast with the garish neon and explosive sex appeal of lower-level establishments, for certain.

It was also certainly an intentional choice by Lorelei. She smiled towards the chiselled specimen of a slime-demon behind the bar’s counter, then lead her companions up to the second floor lounge area, which overlooked the first floor. It was empty enough, outside of a few shady-looking fellows making perfectly-legal business transactions. Her fingertips brushed over the petals of a dandelion, a flower that featured prominently in 7th Haven due to its owner’s tastes, before Lorelei sat down.

[b]“I’ve a friend here,”[/b] she said. [b]“Make yourselves at ease; it might be a bit.”[/b]

A touch of thought.

[b]“Ah, the wifi password is ‘[i]gigavaporeonfluids[/i]’. All capitals, with the first ‘I’ being a 1.”[/b]