Creature Feature
Fondor
Club Tanière
Club Tanière
If you had asked Milla what 'seedy' meant, she would have told you a fruit with pleasant textural elements. Of course if you had asked her what a night club was that would have stumped her completely. Who needed a club you only used at night? So as she lurked in the background of the main room at the Club Tanière, the phrase 'seedy night club' never would have occurred to her in that combination and order of words, but it would have been clear as day to anyone else looking over the scene.
Milla had hit the ground on Pelagon, brought there by
This was better, much better, she thought to herself as she's sidled in while the bouncer's back was turned. She didn't know what he was doing there at the door, scrutinizing people, but she wanted no part of it, thank you. The club wasn't particularly exclusive, but there was a requirement that anyone there could pay for drinks at the very least- or be pretty enough to not need to. Milla, in her current state, was neither of those two things. She wore a dark swirling robe over clothes that even Mercy hadn't been able to fully get the blood out of, which she'd said was impressive. The praise had made Milla uncomfortable in ways she couldn't verbalize but absolutely made her want to curl in on herself until she disappeared into an embarrassed singularity.
Mercy was weird like that.
The dark and crowded club made sense, however. Twilight and heat and sticky floors she could feel through her shoes. Almost homey if one could ignore the thumping base and the smell of alcohol. That made her nose crinkle, doubly so when she'd poked her face into someone else's drink without warning or permission.
"Why is everyone drinking literal poison," she muttered more to herself than to the person whose drink she was starting to grab now to take another sniff of it. "Isopropyl and sugar? No, ethanol and sugar. Gross. Is everyone stupid? This will make them stupid if they aren't already."