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it's always nice to get paid to go to a bar. what a life, amirite? therefore, it's such a crying shame she isn't going there to drink and dance and flirt and do all the fun things people go to bars for. how many drinks could she write off as 'necessary mission expenses'? she vows to find out.[break][break]

still. while she isn't gonna get to do much of the traditionally fun things tonight, that isn't to say it'll be a boring time. who do you think she is? infiltration and blackmail and collecting dirt? yes please. there are very few things better than getting to nose around in someone's skeleton closet and collect their dark, juicy secrets - and even better, getting paid for it. man, joining this coven really was one of her better impulsive decisions. [break][break]

getting dressed for night is easy. black skirt, black top, black eyeliner, red lips. hot if she does say so herself, but not too memorable, and dark enough to slip seamlessly into the shadows if the mission demands. finding her mission partner is equally as easy - there's only one person waiting at the meetup location. iolani eyes the woman up with delighted interest. dark, dark skin, gorgeous cheekbones, and a waterfall of thick inky hair - yes. she would eat her up.[break][break]

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she saunters over, taking care to sway her hips as she does so, a languid curl to her lips and a glint in her silver-storm eyes. "why hello there," she purrs. a swift, subtle flash of the leviathan ring, innocuous to anyone not in the know. "please, call me alana. it's a pleasure to meet you."

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