Being a bodyguard-slash-bouncer was trickier than Lita had thought. Though a simple task at first glance, there two essential skills that the girl would have to master to truly excel at it. The first trick was to not be seen. A bit difficult for Lita, standing at 6'3, clad in shiny full platemail and arms splattered with dried blood,but it was necessary to keep from disturbing the customers and the dancers. Even when there was trouble with a patron, the first rule was to drag him (or her) behind closed doors so that the boots could be properly applied to their face. Lita had found a spot of shadows near the rear wall where she could fate into the background, and it worked, mostly.<br/><br/>The second trick was to keep an eye out for trouble before it happens. Diffusing a dramatic outburst was much easier to do before the fireworks. Lita was better at this ever since the incident on the other continent and she was now quickly picking out possible troublesome people out of the crowd.<br/><br/>Like, say, a non-kitchen staff human ducking out of the kitchen. Lita clamped a large, mail-covered hand over Dieza's shoulder as she passed by. A furry brown-black weasel scampered out from somewhere in the fighter's back and perched on Lita's shoulder, grinning wickedly.<br/><br/>"Hey! Where the hell do you think you're goin'?" Demanded Sebastian the Weasel. His eyes lit up in sudden recognition. "Oh, Dieza! Hey Lita, it's Dezia! It's great to see you again, my sweet monkey butter. Ah ha, ha ha ha!"<br/><br/>Then all of the mirth vanished from his voice. "Just 'cause you know one of the girls here doesn't mean you don't hafta pay the cover charge, y'know."<br/>