Who: Sloan and Issac What: Drinking, conversation, potential biting fun When: Late Evening, 1 May Where: At Sloan's home Warnings: ~TBD Status: ~In Progress
Sloan finished lighting fresh candles and put on music, satisfied those things, plus several bottles of alcohol, would fulfill any standards of etiquette on being a proper hostess for the evening. She's dressed to suit the weather, a sleeveless black shift dress, short enough to skim along the tops of her thighs and her feet are bare. Her hair is gathered up into a careless ponytail, the long tresses hanging down her back. She smells of sugar and sin, although whether that's a perfume, or her natural scent is impossible to tell.
She lays out glasses and a bucket of ice, remembering that many Americans prefer their drinks cold. She also remembers to strengthen her internal blocking against her thoughts being read. It's partially done to give her guest a break from a constant intrusion of other voices in his head and also because she bloody well doesn't want anyone inside her mind.
Hearing a light knock, long legs cross over the patterned carpeting and she pulls open the door with a slight smile. "Welcome. I hope you're one that can hold his liquor. If not, I have no qualms about taking advantage of you in a drunken and insensible state."