<div class="floatleft">(http://i1000.photobucket.com/albums/af130/ViciousTeddyBear/Shards/Hayden%20Panettiere/20091104-hayden-panettiere-jimmy-choo-shoes-030.jpg:original)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Scarlett Steel (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=169361.msg7948123#msg7948123)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Woods<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Fortula, Maricza-ish,<del>Ashleigh</del>Legs, Simon, Azorin-ish<br/><hr/><br/>Scarlett smiles at the girl she's talking with, tilting her chin up just slightly to make sure she keeps eye contact.  First she's uppity, only picking non-drunk girls, pretty weird for coming out to a party in Scarlett's opinion but she doesn't voice it.  Then she covers the opposite end, she likes drinking but not getting plastered.  She's assuming just because Fortula doesn't want to offend Scarlett, just in case there's some kind of a chance that she does get offended.  Still Scarlett smiles as she's caught red-handed.  "Ah, busted.  No offense, I don't know you.  You're pretty and all, I just don't know if that means I should trust you, or not trust you more." She winks and shrugs. "A new bottle would be fine." Technically that could be drugged as well, but it'd require either a syringe or some knowledge of the mystic arts.  But then, if the girl knew that, why not just blow some enchanted dust in Scarlett's face?<br/><br/>Less obvious, she supposes, again she's just starting to be paranoid.  As Fortula (presumably) follows up on her offer to go get a pepsi she resumes looking over the grounds.  Her eyes first land on a girl wearing an incredibly short skirt with mile-long legs.  She's fit, those thighs aren't made for modeling, more like crushing a soccer ball into oblivion.  And as she passes, she notices the nice curve of her ass matches those long legs and Scarlett's previous assumption that she's probably in athletics, likely in something were running and powerful legs are needed.  She wears a hoodie on top of it, popping out a sucker and Scarlett finds her eyes wrapped around Legs' lips.<br/><br/>If Fortula is tall, then Legs is a fucking Amazon.  A brief fantasy brings them both to her bed tonight, maybe along with Mr. Krav Maga.  Scarlett only indulges herself for a moment.  She narrows her eyes suddenly.  She has these...gut feelings that something is about to go horribly wrong.  Her eyes flicker about, unknowingly landing on Azorin a couple of times before moving on, but also finds another older woman staring right at her.  One almost blends into the crowd a little too well, the other doesn't make any effort to do so.<br/><br/>There's something<i>off</i>about the woman.  Stylish? Check.  Looking over the crowd...yeah but so is Scarlett, and she heard about the police having under-covers out here tonight.  So what is it?  Normally there's this soulless look to a vampire's eyes.  "I hear ya." She pats her stomach, not for need of food, she'd eaten earlier, but her gut is telling her something is off.  She tenses, angling just a little bit to face in Maricza's direction, damn near daring her to make a move.  Scarlett narrows her eyes, looking right at her breasts.  No...she's looking for the rise and fall of her chest.  It's hard to see in the flickering flames though.  It may be a better sign if the other woman runs...