<br/><div class="floatleft">(http://img11.deviantart.net/bbd6/i/2013/256/a/2/hookah_girl_by_daul-d6m6rk5.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Kurat-ul-Ain Ali<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Beach<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>April<br/><strong>Letters:</strong>A, Fa, F<br/><br/>Still clutching her head Kurat gazed back over her shoulder at the woman who had "saved" her, though quickly began rolling her eyes as the woman started lecturing her about "reality" or whatever none sense. She didn't know who this girl was, or why she felt so righteously indignant, but she was quickly wearing through the gratitude Kurat had for her. Shaking her head a bit she slowly bent over and picked up an empty tablet packet, showing it off to the woman, "Ecstasy" she explained, "Harmless enough when taken carefully, but dangerous if too much hits your system at one time" she said, pointing to the mound where the basin had been, "she forced me to take some before we did it. I don't mind the whole "melee fuck fest" as ya put it, but what I do mind, is being drugged and almost made to OD. I didn't sign up to get made into a corpse ya understand...?" she said, making it clear she wasn't just being bitter for whatever shallow reasons the woman might be expecting. Valentine literally could have killed her with the stunt she pulled.<br/><br/>When the woman turned away to greet her fan, by the time she turned back Kurat was already making her way to her tent, only casually waving the woman over without looking back at her when she spoke up, "Come on in little fish, the water's fine. Just leave those negative vibes at the door, my mellow's harsh enough as it is" she said, scooping up her portable hookah pipe off the ground and shaking as much sand out of it as she could, letting out a small sigh as she tucked it into her skirt instead of lighting it up, "come on come all, waves rise, waves fall, a tent full of wonders large and small..." she said, disappearing inside her little makeshift tent. Inside April would find Kurat fiddling with a full sized hookah set up in the center of the little tent, the ground around the nook lined with rugs and towels and pillows, giving the place a sort of Arabian bazaar feel too it, which kinda clashed a bit with the reggae music playing from the woman's radio, setting up a rather strange clash of cultures, "So what can I do for ya my sweet hero mine? I'm assumin' you were lookin' for a more heart felt thanks yeah? Though if you only do good things expecting a reward, how heroic is it really?" she mused, taking a deep pull from her hookah pipe before offering it to April with a small smirk on her face, "Though I'm sure your intentions were purely pure, no?" she cooed, smoke pouring from the corners of her lips, framing her dark, foreign features.