Deja has finished half the wine before she returns to her room, and as such has a favorable buzz and a little extra sway in her hips when she makes it to the hotel.  Her cheeky bottom peeking from beneath the leather fringe of her armor, she cares little if anyone watches her up the stairs or not.  She's certainly not the MOST provocative one in this town, and her behavior is hardly a concern to those fucking in the streets... but, all the superficial enjoyment of it aside, she's surprisingly lonely... Julia's companionship was most enjoyable, but... well?  The girl is a prostitute, her services about as enthusiastic as one could hope for but her emotional dedication to the subject entirely conventional.  No convent joke intended--<br/><br/>Her rambling, selfish thoughts come to a crashing halt when she spies the green glow from beneath one of the doors.  Her first thought is to brace herself, arm herself-- ak!  get the fighter, get the mages, this might be a trap or a monster or-- then she remembers that she's in a resort town with an emphasis on casual sex and the extremity of enjoyment.  So?  She chews her lower lip for a moment in thought, then creeps closer and-- as silently as she can manage-- peeks through the keyhole or, if there is none, tests the door.  It truly must be the wine driving her to this kind of stupidity, but... ooh, it seems like good sport...