[ The air smells like copper and something sharp, like anesthetic, but you only have to look to see hunger here. (For better, for brighter, for blood; they amount to the same thing for enough people.) There's a roll of cash stuck in the pocket of her jacket but Natasha smiles anyway, the curl to her smile slippery, as if on purpose. Look long and hard enough and you'll find where your mark went; dreamcades are new enough on her radar that they make something in the set of her shoulders itch.
She tips her chin to look him in the eye, the heel to her stiletto skittering as she shifts her weight. ]
no subject
She tips her chin to look him in the eye, the heel to her stiletto skittering as she shifts her weight. ]
Is that a request or an offer?