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Perhaps her obfuscation slipped momentarily because the irises of Chance's hues began to spin counterclockwise as a triad of encircling blues. It was, as of that moment, the most supernatural quality the creature had shared with the patronage of the bar. "Young human?" Did Set believe Errol young? Defenseless? Had he drawn lines to dots in hopes of connection, only to miss their true marks? Their group was a mixed assortment of supernaturals, but Chance was beginning to expect that assumptions being made to her true identity were wildly inaccurate, which earned a mischevious smile across roseate lips. "I highly doubt you know what I am, Set. Much less what I do in my spare time, though you do love to talk as though you've figured it all out, which is impressive considering how clueless you seemed a few moments ago."<br/>
<br/>
But the ring would never make contact with her skin. <br/>
<br/>
As if there were a barrier between them, his hand would come <i>within inches</i> of her bare skin before hitting the wall. That was the best description for it, this sizeable energy radiating from the Fae that was all manner of malignant and in no way akin to what someone would associate with Faeries of legend. She wasn't anything similar, after all. Colin's thoughts were those of a man who was raised in the land of those legends, and Set's presumption was just as inaccurate, albeit a tad more intrusive than the Vampire's inner narrative. Chance couldn't read minds, of course, but she was well trained in reading movements and body language, so the ring drew as much attention as Set's hand itself. Neither were worthy of her flesh. <br/>
<br/>
"I'm not sure what you hope to accomplish," she chimed, still smirking, "but I've heard slut shaming is <b>out</b>. As are cryptic messages about straying from one's kind... Now, why don't you return to your seat before you find yourself in trouble?"<br/>
<br/>
Anyone with the appropriate manner of auspex would see the darkness of her aura, obsidian tendrils lapping up the length of her bare legs, rearing sightless serpentine heads in the direction of the pale fellow as they waited for any further sign of aggression. <br/>
<br/>
Chance, of course, waved Set off without a care in the world. That was the point of her contract and the benefits of being on this plane of existence. Besides, she knew not to worry over lesser beasts and their qualms because, as she had already mentioned, the bar wouldn't allow for acts of violence against the patronage. Set would have a difficult time challenging whatever dark magicks surrounded the Fae as well as taking on the bar's inherent security measures.<br/>
<br/>
And just like that, Chance had moved on, far more interested in Brock's banter than she was in continuing to play with Set. "Oh, I don't mind the questions. Colin may not be used to humans and their inquiries, but I've had a long time to immerse myself in the culture. It's a culture of questions, isn't it? Why and how? Who and when and where? Celebrity tracking, breaking news - all sorts of names and dates you're required to memorize and repeat and know, despite their lack of significance in your day to day life. Even I can name four Kardashians and I've never owned a television." The cheers were met with a nod, the dip of her head deep and appreciative. "Thank you, Brock. At least you appreciate it, unlike a certain white knight with who doesn't understand personal space."<br/>
<br/>
Eyes rolling, she tilted her features sidelong and gave Hazel a once over before asking, "Does the alcohol ever take effect? I know a few races that just can't get drunk, mine included, but others happen to take longer than, say, a human might. Are you racing to a finish line, or are you stuck in a sober loop of supernatural design? If it's the latter, that's a pity. I've been told that alcohol is a social lubricant. Then again, I've also been told that oysters are an aphrodisiac..." With that, the blonde made a grimace, obviously disenchanted with the latter mention.<br/>
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