<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/3b/Cassandra_Keisling.png)</div><strong>Cassandra Kiesling/Fang of the Ourobus</strong>(https://docs.google.com/document/d/1lqrxHCPe-Y-Lf0QXpd7GMAoFmWis36xvz6A09AKkqsg/edit)<br/><br/>When she'd gotten the call from Eduardo about this job, Fang let her roommate know in unspecific terms that she was going to a meet and when, giving Specter a chance to discover with her that they had been invited to the same meet without being unprofessionally gossipy.<br/><br/>The morning before the meet, Fang attempted to call forth a minor air spirit to give her some back up in case this proved t be a trap, or otherwise went sour.  Then she went through a lighter than normal version of her daily exercise regime and took a hot shower.<br/><br/>Fang of the Oruborus was an elegant, hard bodied black girl with a small waist, round hips and full breasts.  She closed her eyes and savored hot water washing cleansing suds down her rich black frame.  Setting the shower head to massage, she savored the shower for a few moments, turning to let the water soothe tight muscles in her back.<br/><br/>Then, catching the first hints of chill that meant the hot water was going out fast, Fang twisted around and shut off the water.<br/><br/>A few moments later, Fang walked into her room wrapped in a white towel, with another in her hair.  The black girl opened her closet, then slid open the secret door behind it to access her gear.  She started by donning a form fitted body stocking.  Once shed slipped into it fully, Fang used her com link to instruct the microfibers to tighten themselves over her body, then shift colors to match her skin tone.<br/><br/>Next, Fang donned an expensive armored costume, all black synth leather and corset-straps.  She didn't cinch it to shrink her already perfect waist, but the straps did serve to accentuate her curves—and add a few more layers of protection over her vital areas.  The sleeping tiger outfit was completed with a com link, a katana, a shotgun in a sling, a large fang necklace wrapped in orichalcum wire on a sturdy leather thong around her neck, two enchanted rings, a pair of black gloves, and a cowboy hat fitted with trodes.  An overcoat covered the shotgun and katana.  Finally, a snake fang earring on a dangly golden chain in each ear.<br/><br/>Fang made her way to the meet 10 minutes early. She cruised around the neighborhood on her Mirage for a few minutes, getting the feel for the neighborhood, before parking her bike and setting the security alerts.  She headed into Tres Hermanas.  She greeted the man at the desk in passable and basically fluent Spanish.  She accepted the offer of a beer and sipped at it slowly—having come to learn her alcohol tolerance quickly since moving to Havana.<br/><br/>When the cigar came out, Fang made a small gesture of reaching for the matches, offering to light their hosts cigar.  She didn't smoke—not just because of the threats to her health--but because nothing ever smelled as good as her father's pipe.<br/><br/>“A final lesson, Sir?  Such jobs should be handled with care and delicacy, but you have my attention, and my interest.”  Fang did, in fact, have a small body count on her record, but she prided herself on having ways of putting down her opponents without doing lasting harm.  She'd yet to put anyone in their grave that she didn't sincerely believe the world was better off without.