Looking for Trouble [tag: Perses]
Enyo was far too overdressed for her location. Not because Acapulco wasn't known as a fashionable frontier or anything. No, it had to do with the fact that she was in a bar, dressed rather like she was a CEO of a large firm of some sort and slumming it with the braver tourists and locals. But Violence didn't go anywhere, outside of actual war, without dressing as one would expect the daughter of the King and Queen of Olympus to dress. Besides, she liked to feel feminine and elegant.
All that aside, she leaned one elbow on the bar and pointed to her glass of tequila, then to the bartender, then back to her glass. She spoke Spanish just fine, but that was more Castilian Spanish and not Mexican Spanish -there were some differences that made speaking to the locals comfortably... difficult. Didn't matter, she wasn't there to socialize with the locals.
Violence didn't generally socialize for the sake of socialization. Nor did she hang out in touristy locales without an agenda of some kind. What she wanted, and the reason for her choosing this particular bar in Acapulco, was that it had a reputation for attracting shady locals and good tequila. And being in Mexico, she drank only good high-shelf tequila and not the swill most other countries served or tried to pass off as tequila. In fact, outside of Mexico, she didn't drink tequila. And she knew better than to drink it with ice.
What had drawn her attention to Mexico were the bizarre happenings of late. The random disembodied heads being found strewn around. She was rather big on dismembering her enemies if possible, so any time mortals took it on in a grand scale (and finding ten heads in a relatively short span of time without word on the bodies counted as grand scale), she was intrigued. It was one of the few things that would have Enyo in a bar, in Acapulco, on the borders of the resorts and the more 'inner' areas of the city, talking to locals and scouring the news sources for information on it.
She wanted to know more. She didn't care the reason behind it, or who was doing it... just that it was happening. In fact, she approved. Heartily. Bloodshed was bloodshed was bloodshed and in the end, people had died in a rather gruesome fashion.
The bartender refilled her glass of tequila and gave her a wide toothy grin. Oh, there were a handful of brave tourists in the bar, but excluding herself, she could count them on one hand and still have fingers left over. It was a brave thing to venture outside of the resorts and 'acceptable' marketplaces. It was even bordering on stupid. Though, other than one young and obviously dim female tourist, she was the only woman in the bar. And the palest skinned woman in the bar at that.
“Dangerous to be out of the resorts alone, Senorita.”
She smiled and tipped her head in acknowledgment. “I think I perfectly capable of handling myself.” Taking a sip of the tequila, she leaned forward on the bar, “And what makes you think I'm alone?” As far as she was aware, she was, but it didn't matter.