Re: At the Roulette Wheels
"You think they'd be better off on their own. Outside. In that?" Ivy never took her hypnotic eyes off of him, although there was the faintest cant of her pretty head in the direction of the main doors where chaos rained like sulphur and brimstone outside. The apocalypse was upon Vegas, and this man would have rather sent the hostages running than let them be in possession of a simple woman. How misogynistic. Ivy did not laugh, she didn't even smile, because although the presumption was ridiculous, this man obviously wasn't joking. This didn't seem like the time for playful sarcasm either, considering there was a gun pointed at her.
"I've been shot before." Note the deep gouge in her arm that was still healing. "It makes me a little uncomfortable to have you wavin' that thing in my face. So how about you put it down, sugar, and we talk real possibilities." Her voice was sugarcane and tree sap, sticky sweet.
A guard rounded the corner of the blackjack tables suddenly, in eyesight of them. His gun was drawn, and although his eyes were glazed with narcotic infatuation, the man's stare was intense. Nobody liked seeing their owner threatened. But sensing him at her back, Ivy raised a calm hand of caution and dismissal. "Leave us." The guard didn't so much as hesitate, despite the passion blazing in his attention, and he turned in retreat no less than a second after she spoke.
Ivy pushed herself slowly onto stocking'd knees, so slowly in case this guy's trigger finger got itchy. "I don't know you, but you obviously know me, painted stranger. If you wanna negotiate their release, let's go some place a little more quiet. I'd hate to see you get shot up over lil ol' me." There were a ton of guards milling about, after all.