<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/67/48741167a506332b94559bc28ab571a7.jpg)</div><strong>Tara Robinson/Rave</strong>(https://docs.google.com/document/d/1o3X2QIlovjgMJnXUe8RYlZNIkGTWTFr9wRUhckPBuAk/edit)<br/><br/>Rave cruised down the ramp into a small parking basement on her Mirage.  Pulling off her helmet, softly luminous amethyst tresses spilled down her back to her waist.  Wearing snug syth-leather pants and a purple tube top beneath her slick black leather jacket, Rave giggled a little at the thought that she might be mistaken for sexy and tough.  (Especially with the dagger tucked into her boot...)<br/><br/>Glowing softly in the dim light, Rave headed up the stairs and through the lobby.  She flashed a level glare at the security man as she passed him so that his polite slap on the thigh didn't turn into a fondle—as a few men's had before she'd learned not to back down.<br/><br/>The chuckling security guard was treated to the sight of the curvy dancer suddenly going rosy cheeked and flaxen yellow in the hair at the message from Switch.<br/><br/>Blushing deeper, she hurried into the elevator, then replied allowed.  “You make it sound like I was on stage, Switch.  I'm sure everyone was too busy dancing to pay me any real mind.  I'm just a mood dancer.”<br/><br/>Her hair was alternating between turquoise and yellow as she strode inside, shed her jacket, and walked into their bedroom.<br/>