Murder on the Dancefloor

[Nisha Decrilla]

Nisha loved a good ball. She loved the effort people put into their clothes, she loved the way the light glinted off expensive jewels, she loved the smell of cigars, cologne and perfume that mingled in the air. She loved the noise of it, the music that rose goosebumps on her skin, the high false laughs and the low murmur of conversation as nobles hurled veiled insults at one another.

It was so very false. And so very beautiful. And so very her.

She’d practically begged Itash to let her kill him based purely on this event. After all he didn’t take her anywhere anymore, not now that he had Miss Paige. Not that she cared, but she missed the way heads would turn her way, she missed pretending to be something she wasn’t and choosing a victim to provide entertainment for the evening.

Tonight, her victim had been chosen for her. A Baron of sorts, widowed, without children and with a nice long line of gold diggers trailing at his heels simpering for his attention. If died, the fortune he owned would fall to Itash, because that was his next of kin. However this ball had been thrown in the hopes that he would find a suitable bride. They’d be wed within the fortnight.

Nisha’s duty was to catch his eye and then kill him. Make it clean and untraceable. Such a spoilsport sometimes was her Itash.

Her hair was pinned up, a few loose curls framed her face. She sported a necklace of glittering diamonds that rested aboved a sweetheart neckline of a strapless dress whose corset hugged her frame tightly and flowed into soft silk that shimmered like water about her legs as she moved. A slender leg could be glimpsed now and then through a slit that ran a little too high up her thigh.

First a drink. The bar was slightly elevated and she’d be able to locate her target, maybe even find something to provide her entertainment later on in the evening too.

[member="Evoros"]

 

[Evoros]

[member="Nisha Decrilla"]​

She blended easily into social affairs, knew the crowds as though she'd lived the life of the faceless nobles herself. On some level, she even enjoyed them. But Evoros could only ever be here, in a place like this, with entirely ulterior motives. This world was decadent, but it was lifeless.

Instead, the agent felt as alive as ever. Dressed in black, with a curtain of wavy hair hiding the direction of her gaze, Evoros moved with a practiced casualness, furtively scanning the crowds. Little information had been given on her target tonight, but there wasn't much differing one rich noble from the next as far as she cared. She could only guess what made him a threat to the Collective--maybe he'd drunkenly given away the wrong secrets, gambled away debts to the wrong people, made the wrong enemies.

Not that it made a difference. She knew everything she had to know to carry out this kill without a hitch. And it had been a long, long time since she'd taken lives for anything besides a profit.

"Anything to drink, madame?"

The brunette turned to the butler who'd appeared in the midst of the crowd, pretending to contemplate.

"A martini, please." He nodded and left, certain somehow that what he really ought to bring her was water in a martini glass. Briefly, Evoros allowed her smugness to show, then her smile shrank into the artificial cheer on every face in the room. She'd spotted the target--he was nearing the bar at the side of the dancefloor.

She'd keep an eye on him for now. The Baron would be more relaxed after a few drinks--easier to talk to then if she had to. And she certainly didn't mind waiting before trying to make conversation.

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

The truth about people could bee seen in their eyes, in the flashes of disgust and anger as they forced laughs in response to jokes, in the way they averted their gaze momentarily, when words struck chords a little too close to home. She watched the crowd with a glass of red wine in her hand, assessing all of them. She'd spotted three jealous wives already, husbands who eyes wandered to far and were incapable of remaining faithful were under their scornful glare. She also spotted the man with too much money for anyone to tell him he was an jerk, with a small crowd around him that laughed a little too loudly.

She spotted another outsider too. Her mask had flickered, smug for a moment after speaking to a butler. No one was smug after speaking to a butler. Beyond her, approaching the bar was the Baron and his entourage of potentials. She slid u next to the brunette and watched them all. "Poor simpering fools," she murmured "like cattle to the slaughter. Don't you think"

[member="Evoros"]

 

[Evoros]

[member="Nisha Decrilla"]​

Without once looking straight at her, Evoros watched as a woman neared her. Being approached at a bar was hardly unusual- it was the person approaching, how unusual they were, that told her if she had a reason to be paranoid. But she didn't have time to decide what, if anything, made this woman different from the throng of others, before she was standing beside Evoros.

She waited as the stranger spoke- and paused. Barely a heartbeat, but the agent had a suspicion it wouldn't go unnoticed.

Evoros was good at planning. The secret to reacting swiftly to the unexpected was expecting it, expecting everything so she could never be caught off guard. Sometimes she wasn't quite creative enough.

But she could think quickly instead. "Not cattle," the brunette replied softly. "Sheep." A swift glance to the bar to make sure the Baron hadn't moved, then she looked more closely at the stranger. She was enjoying herself, Evoros decided.

"But you're not following, are you?" She'd let this one do the talking. Evoros the contemptuous noble was less chatty than Evoros the bored assassin.

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

It didn't go unnoticed, the paused told her a lot. In a heartbeat she knew that this one was calculated and was here for a purpose. Women like Nisha caught people of guard all the time, but they didn't pause, shift gear and decide to talk to her or not, they sputtered and stammered.

A smile at her choice of words, a small sip of wine and she let her eyes fall from the gaggle of women about the Baron who was trying to get to he bar, to the brunette. "No, my dear, I am not. Because men like that come to me, to avoid women like that. He's not going to marry any of them, if he does they'll be dead within a week. Heavy handed I hear, like things a little rough. And those twiglets won't be able to handle it."

The Baron's face flashed with irritation, Nisha caught his eye as it did and offered him a small but inviting smile, bowing her head, playing coy. Come here, she thought, come here you overgrown nerf and meet your demise. She'd caught his eye, that was enough for now. She turned her attention fully to the woman. The outsider, the calculative brunette. But she kept that mask on her face, the mask that said 'oh my gosh he saw me, is he still looking, he is, ok, play it cool.'

But if the brunette was half as intelligent as she believed. She'd see right through it, see the glitter of malice in her eyes. "What do you do Miss...?"

[member="Evoros"]

 

[Evoros]

[member="Nisha Decrilla"]​

Interesting.

Maybe Evoros didn't need to be afraid of this woman. Maybe the danger was to someone else, or not there at all. But she certainly ought to be suspicious. And more than that, she was curious.

An eyebrow lifted at her assessment of the Baron. Had she been spotted keeping an eye on him? Normally Evoros would dismiss her paranoia as exactly that, but this woman was too observant from her tastes. Her skill was in going unobserved, being overlooked and confined to the shadows until it was far too late. This wasn't her usual tactic.

She wasn't admitting to anything yet, though. Instead Evoros let her gaze dance across the brief interaction between the Baron and the stranger beside her, curiosity hidden but running deep. She didn't believe for a second that the woman wasn't hiding anything- but then, who wasn't? It didn't make much difference unless you knew what.

"Paige- Eryn Paige," she lied fluidly. She'd heard the name around these crowds, even if she didn't necessarily know anything more than that. The butler returned and Evoros smiled, deftly taking the glass and trying a sip. She never drank on a mission, and it seemed an even better decision standing next to this observant stranger. "Yourself?"

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

Evoros should absolutely have been afraid of Nisha. Fear was a good instinct to take into consideration. Oh she' wasn't there for Evoros, but that didn't mean she was off her list of potential victims. She'd been sent to kill the Baron yes, but if she only killed who Itash told her to kill then she'd have an incredibly dull existence.

The brunette lied about her name. She'd expected as much, but the lie was so blatant to Nisha that her lips curled into a smile, she took a slow deliberate sip from her wine, running her eyes up and down 'Miss Paige'. She was a slightly stiff, tension coiled in her muscles but was it a predator waiting to strike? Or prey debating between fight or flight? there was a distinct lack of smell coming from her martini.

Nisha suffered (or benefited) from extreme hubris. She lived in the shadows of far powerful men and women, she killed from the shadows for powerful men and women. And in the shadows she feared nothing and no one, because they were her domain. She didn't use alias's because she didn't feel the need for them. Records of her did not exist anywhere, and the likeliness of her running into someone again was slim. "A pleasure, Miss Paige." she offered a hand. "Nisha Decrilla. You didn't say why you were here?"

[member="Evoros"]