Poor Planning [Kat]

[Orion Adair]

Orion shifted to his left foot, remembered that leg was just as tired and shifted back with his weight on his right. The suit didn’t really fit. It fit well enough, sure. Well enough to pass he was told. But whoever it was made for, well they just weren’t as wire thin as Orion. He had loosely tied his hair back with a strip of black material and it had been the only contribution he’d been allowed to his own appearance tonight.

He was new. New enough that no one would know he wasn’t actually some rich pretty boy. He gathered that was a kink that would help him get close enough to get certain information and put some pressure on said informer. It was just plain uncomfortable. He’d argued that he didn’t really need all this pomp. He’d been ignored.

From what he’d seen the past month, one needed more than nice clothes and clean hair to pose as someone who didn’t really need for anything. Orion was a desert boy. He carried what he owned and it didn’t weigh him down. Hell, he didn’t even walk right for this. Still here he was. Positive this was a waste of a night.

He’d earned a few looks already and was completely positive there was no way this was working. However, he’d been given enough to make it look convincing and decided he might as well make the most of this little personal nightmare. Heck with it. He gave up on all the little ‘helpful’ hints supplied. The point your chin up and walk like you have pillows on your feet. The toe of his shoe came down first when he walked and he would twist his foot slightly, a habit gained from walking on sand dunes, and was definitely harder than pillows. Orion didn’t sit as much as drop into a seat at the bar and his left foot came up to tuck under his thigh without thought.

He tugged on the too loose sleeve cuff, trying to get the material to sit comfortably. “Something strong?” He hadn’t meant for it to come out as a question. The very little experience he had with alcohol was limited to a couple tests with only his siblings as witness. “What?” Orion felt the eyes on him, and turned his head to give the person beside him an ‘I-have-no-shits-to-give-look’.

[Deleted]

    Kat smirked as she saw a man who looked distinctly uncomfortable in his rich finery. The ones who could afford such clothing usually liked to pretend they were too good to buy her services, but this man had very clearly not been raised in old money. Sizing up a client was crucial, and if she was really lucky, this man would end up being exactly what she needed tonight. 

    The nouveau riche tended to like spending lots of money on women and on proving a point to those who'd already been in power. Kat was always more than happy to help them... reinvest their newfound wealth. And this poor fellow, he was a handsome devil, that was for certain. His feminine features were almost angelic, and he could have very easily out shine the majority of the men in this godforsaken city if he put more effort into it.

    Kat saw him almost fall onto a stool and smiled. Apparently he'd temporarily given up his little game... and alcohol did wonders for loosening up a mark's pockets. Kat made her way across the room with a practiced grace that made her movements seem effortless. Yes, she'd been in this game for a long time, and she was just as at home in the richest salons as she was in the dirtiest back alleys. 

    Kat tended to draw gazes regardless of where she went, not many favorable, but she held her back straight and her kept her head held high regardless. She was more than their equal, and she knew it. Kat smiled, almost kindly as she sat down next to the man, before ordering a drink of her own. She then smirked slightly as he turned to face her, "Do I need a reason to take notice of such a handsome man?"

[Orion Adair]

Orion could tell one thing about this woman in just one glance; she was infinitely more comfortable then he was right now. "Usually? Yes." He knew that everyone had their own motive, even if it wasn't nefarious. Everything from the wave of her hair to the perfectly manicured nails screamed foreign to him. It was one thing he had never given much thought to until they'd trussed him up and clipped down his nails. When they got long they broke or he bit them short.

It was this unusual setting that was throwing him off so much, he decided. He wouldn't be this thrown out in the wastes. Sure, he wished he had his bow but he could do this. It was just a busier desert. Less hot. More people. Far more people. He took the drink he was brought and slugged it down. Not the smartest of ideas. It definitely burned going down. "God." He tried swallowing a couple times to get that aftertaste down. "It's like drinking acid rain. What the hell was that?" Well that wasn't happening again. That was nothing like the half bottle of rum the teens came across years back.

He shook his head and swallowed again but despite the shaky start was still full on with his plan. "The question," Orion turned to fully face the woman, head cocked as though listening for something, though what in the sea of noise that was people getting drunk was up for debate. "should be: what do you want? But I guess we can go with: who are you? Seeing as how it seems to be less upsetting." He took on a more abrasive, paranoid tone that he only really knew as his norm.

Pretty she may be - ok very pretty - but he had no problems admitting that even kids half his size could be dangerous. The little knife hidden in this ridicules idea of a plan did not make him feel better. He'd accepted this under the impression he'd get to have a gun on him at least but apparently that was too telling.