<div class="floatleft">(http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/236x/c8/3a/49/c83a497a08787b1ec184bf4e995dc170.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Antoinette Danescu<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Niko | Davis | Black<br/><hr/><br/>Antoinette listened in on the translation between their new passenger and Davis, taking extra care to listen to the manner in which Niko spoke.  She was no translator but she was doing her best to pick up certain things such as tone, syllable emphasis and the like.  It required the passive awareness she had developed in her years of paranormal investigation.  Her career made off applying sound, scientific logic and paranormal qualities all into one explainable deduction to her client.  It's the very reason she was able to listen to such meticulous detail and take the crudely written notes in her composition pocketbook.<br/><br/>The news of potential hazards in the form of bandits didn't particularly worry her.  She was surrounded by well-trained soldiers and she could fire a gun if necessary to defend herself.  The chances of harm coming to her by a small group of ragtag bandits was slim to none.  It was the details of this tavern's entertainment that concerned her.  Was she ready to move on from Brent's death so soon as to party?  Well, the alcohol certainly had its appeal and she would be getting intoxicated as a result.  That fact alone let her cast aside the trivial concerns and focus in on Sebastian's approach to reply to his question.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><strong>"That's a loaded question, lieutenant.  I'm sitting here on the edge of a cliff listening to a woman we thought to be nothing but folklore legend and fiction while pondering the repercussions my notes are going to have on my field of expertise.  I made a living debunking the paranormal and now I'm <em>standing</em> neck deep in it."</strong></span><br/><br/>Her dark, shuttered gaze lifted from her notebook to set upon Sebastian.  Shuttered in a way that they were slightly closed to mask her real emotions despite her husky voices taut tone of voice eluding to the contrary.  It was up for debate how much the 13th Recon knew of Antoinette's history and how the portals ruined her career but the fact was set in stone.  The gaze was fleeting before she closed the notebook and tucked it away into her jacket before pulling it off.  This put her pasty, pale flesh on full display underneath the fishnet shirt worn under the jacket.  A woman with a lithe, smooth complexion that was riddled with scars,  small patches of ink, and small traces of physical training.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;"><strong>"Why don't you ask me again when I'm not sober?"</strong></span>