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Perhaps it came with the territory, but Chance hardly batted a lash at the crimson-hued gentleman, used to far more monstrous beings waltzing their way into the tavern. It was always a roll of the dice whether a customer might appear skinless and daunting or colossal and clawed, the size of their teeth second only to the voraciousness of their appetite. Mr. Scott's nod earned one from the Fae, a silent assurance that he was in similar company even if the question of everyone's identity lingered well past formal introductions. Clinks of glasses being taken and poured into was a sign of progress, despite the apparently human officer in their midst.<br/>
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"It appears as if the patronage is arriving in waves. Is this what you first envisioned of the bar, Colin?" Chance mused softly, her sights offering a sidelong glance of acknowledgment. Planting herself back onto the weathered stool she had claimed earlier, her rear wiggled beneath the fabric of her dress, paying no mind to the rise of the material as she situated herself. Bare thighs were hardly a crime. "And you're asking a rather personal question, Stranger." Tipping her chin at the police officer, the woman went on to explain, "I've been coming here so long, the matter of my station never comes to mind when I make time to visit. Now you, on the other hand, seem out of place in a place such as this." <br/>
<br/>
Settling her eyes on his newly cleaned knuckles, cobalt orbs remained investigative well through Colin's query of who this mysterious city official might be. Until she was distracted by her drink, Chance seemed content to pause her interactions, her staring likely considered invasive by the time she made her break-off sip of liquor. <br/>
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"It's comfortable here," She finally replied, the curve of her smile appearing impish. "And I expect there's something to be said about secrecy. This isn't the sort of place you learn about through word of mouth."<br/>
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