The establishment was, admittedly, rather well furnished; the floor was encompassed by a rich Victorian style carpet decorated with ornate images of aureate flowers enfettered by brambles of the same shade atop a crimson backdrop serving to lend an air affluence to the room, an ambience that was only cultivated further by the quiet melody emanating from an ebony grand piano resting against a far wall of the lounge, low as the music was however it was than sufficient to mask the whispered conversations occupying the various tables scattered across the floor. The guests at these tables were, for the most, prosperous men and women merely seeking to an idle away an hour or two of their time in city before business called them away. Here and there though, if one should care to look, the occasional family could be spotted wandering past the lounge and along the foyer on their way in and out of the hotel. One or two family groups even had children who possessed enough decorum to permit them to enter the lounge and enjoy a quiet drink, possibly with a light meal.

Situated in the centre of the lounge was a wooden island of sorts which served as both a bar and modest kitchen, comprised of what, at first glance, appeared to be rosewood the commercial construct commanded more than a modest amount of floor space and housed an impressive variety of alcoholic libations from obscure African wines to the classical long island ice tea. The serving staff behind the counter moved with an easy grace and speed which bespoke skill gained through no brief amount of experience and it was most fortunate this was the case for it meant that they were well versed in dealing with dealing with ill tempered affluent patrons. Typically it was just a sullen businessman whose latest proposal had failed to take root, other times the hostility could stem more... illicit or sordid events, whatever the case may be the serving staff had found the most practical approach for such customers was to simply act as little more than wordless ghosts, delivering any orders as swiftly as possible and retreating before any residual anger could be taken out on them.

So it was that Zephyr found himself situated at a table within close proximity of the bar nursing his fourth, or possibly his fifth, glass of apricot Pilanka. Apparently it was one of the more popular drinks in the region though the hessian couldn't really care less, he'd simply wanted to dull the constant pulsing inside his skull and as he'd not possessed the forethought to procure his painkillers prior to dropping Katrina off at Slates door with instructions not to let her out of his sight. That had been roughly an hour ago and the rush hour traffic had extended his return journey to approximately 40 minutes, an inconvenience which had only served to increase the intensity of the elementals migraine and further sour his already tenebrous disposition. The cumulative effect of the alcohol the mercenary had thus far consumed had begun to ablate the throbbing pain within his head, and with it a portion of his dark demeanor, however the hessian was by no means ready or willing to indulge another soul with anything approaching common courtesy.

Woe betide anyone who got between the elemental and his next drink.

(Tell me if I need to change anything and I will. )

Rule one to assassinating some dude or lady. Know who this dude or lady is because saying oops to this part of the job, while entertaining to some with twisted minds, is apparently a big no no.

Not that Pix was dumb enough to make this mistake. It was just an entertaining thought she had as she glanced at a small photo of a man in her hand. She’d long since memorized the features on his face from the mole on his chin, his thin lips hid under a thick mustache, black hair that looked as though it had recently started to turn to salt and pepper. Petunia had memorized his street address, his families faces, his job title, (That was an easy one. Senator.) She knew his shoe size, his tailor, and his favorite brand of Whisky. The one thing about him she hadn’t memorized was his name.

A name wasn’t really important. As Shake’s spear said, “A rose with any other name Yada yada yada –“ Pix didn’t memorize it out of being afraid to do this killing, she didn’t memorize it out of not wanting to remember this senator and what she intended to do to him. Quite the opposite really. Petunia wanted every fun detail etched into her brain. She didn’t memorize it because memorizing his name wasn’t fun. Finding all the other stuff out and playing little miss detective? Fun. Slurring through hard to pronounce letter groupings. Not fun.

For all Petunia cared, this Senator could be named Mr. Bubbles.

The photo was tucked into the inner folds of her clutch, giving everyone around her a glance at the large amount of bills tucked in one side for someone to be carrying who looked as though they were no more than 16. Petunia blamed not looking older on her mutation. She was really 25, and with the right pair of high heals she could look 5 feet tall, Thank you very much.

Petunia wore a dark green dress that matched the natural green eye shadow that was around her eyes, but looked like make up. The dress was slim, clinging to her sides. It was a shame that she had to cover it with a long shawl to hide her dragon fly like wings. Part of her long, black, hair was done up in a bun, and her face was framed with the rest of it, in loose curls that rested on her shoulders. A single monarch butterfly perched perfectly still like a barrette piece, on a gold clasp, near the top of her head.

Petunia found her way to the lobby where she was greeted by the host. He took only a moment giving her the once over about her age then receiving mouthful from her about her ID, and no she didn’t need parents present with her at all times. Within a minute he was guiding her to her table where she assumed she was to sit, and be happy.

They were half way across the room, passing the center bar/kitchen/ really fancy crap, when petunia saw him. No. Not the man sitting and drinking quietly at the bar, though if Petunia had been looking around other than at her target, it would have been helpful. It was Mr errr ahhh… Senator Bubbles. You know who.

Now about the noticing things around her and watching where she was going. Yeah this would have been a good idea about now that petunia had gotten half way across the room and was passing the bar. In other words looking in the direction of Where the host had been leading her, because then she wouldn’t of stepped in front of a waiter who was holding a tray with three wine glasses on it, and that waiter wouldn’t of dumped them in the general direction of The bar where the quietly drinking man was drinking quietly.

THWUNK

the edge of the tray hit Petunia across the temple because apparently the waiter wasn't paying attention either, and she was just that short compared to him. There were a few seconds of the two becoming a tangled mess where Petunia's elbow was wedged into the waiter's gut, and the waiters foot was on top of her toes. Then down the two went and splash went the three floutest wine cups on the unsuspecting man who was sitting quietly at the bar drinking.

Alcohol, it has been said, is proof that god loves us and wants us to be happy.

From Zephyr's perspective there above statement numerous flaws, not least of which was the assumed subsistence of what, when you actually thought about it, was little more than an imaginary invisible individual residing in the sky and whose sole purpose was to watch, and judge, every move and thought of those below him every minute of every day of every year. From the elementals inebriated point of view, if there was indeed a supreme being surely he would have better things to do with his time than attempting, and failing, to micromanage the actions of an entire race? As far job promotions it seemed a little underwhelming to be honest; after crafting an entire universe from nothing, drafting the laws of physics by which would operate, orchestrating the creation of untold billions of stars, planets and forms of life only to then be reduced to what was little more than a babysitter?

If that was what godhood entailed the mercenary failed to see any appeal. No, life as a mere mortal had served him well thus far and, present complications aside, the future appeared to be rather bearable. Indeed there were a rich variety of options available to him which seemingly were denied to any omnipresent, omniscient, omnipotent entities. Chief among them in the elementals mind was the ability to become... what was the term? Ah yes, utterly 'hammered'. Admittedly the alcohol may have been influencing his internal machinations somewhat but then that was the point was it not? In exchange for warping one's perception of reality the liquor would permeate the imbibers system and gradually alter their behavior via manipulation of the cerebral cortex, hippocampus, cerebellum and, if one were incredibly asinine, the medula resulting, of course, in death.

Granting humanity the ability to concoct a highly addictive substance capable of diminishing moral judgment, inducing violent tendencies and ultimately ending with death. An insidiously inspirational gift by any modern measure, its creator would certainly require an intellect beyond that of common plebeians, yet the image of a benevolent deity seemed rather unfitting to say the least. If anything a more malevolent malicious entity was responsible, perhaps one possessing scarlet skin and adorned with horns? A being which savoured the suffering of others and did all in its power to ensure that existence was filled with a whole host of torments... yes this seemed far more likely than the deluded notion of an altruistic almighty being who, against all reason, seemed to be largely incompetent if the state of the current world were any indication.

Entertaining though this line of thought was Zephyr idly discarded it as he once more raised his glass and tasted the cool sacchariferous nectar as it flowed down his throat. The slightly thrum within his skull was gaining a more pleasant intensity as it began to away at his spatial sense, blurring his perceptions slightly and thus reducing the associated pain as a result. Arguably it wasn't the most practical solution however it worked, besides it wasn't as though his sixth sense had been rendered completely silent, he was still perfectly capable of discerning the off air currents in the room as well as those individuals and objects which displaced his element. For example he could easily distinguish the presence of the wine burdened waiter a few feet away along with what seemed to be a young women on a rather... direct course.

It occurred to the intoxicated Kabal member that this was likely not a good thing, however by the time his inebriated thoughts managed to communicate their intentions to his body events were already underway; the unseen young women having collided with the preoccupied server in a strangely audible thud which was swiftly followed by the almost melodic clatter of falling wine glasses. To the waiters credit he did make an attempt to salvage the situation, tilting his silver tray and overextending his reach in a somewhat futile effort to force the wine into landing anywhere other than its intended destination, sadly though the man's actions only served to further upset his already precarious balance, causing him to first stumble and then collapse atop the young woman who had collided with him in beginning while the three wine glasses continued their fateful journey and proceeded to drench their target.

Zephyr simply blinked, his mind taking a moment assure itself that the images it was receiving were in fact genuine, yet as his azure gaze shifted from the unfortunate patron at the bar to the waiter and woman seemingly wrestling at his feet the elemental found he couldn't resist the urge to sigh. All he'd wanted was a quiet evening to himself, a chance to ease, or hopefully erase the pounding in his skull, was that really so much to ask? Apparently so because the drenched young man who'd been sitting at the bar was already striding forwards; his irate gaze fixed upon the two figures he held responsible. However, this was well staffed establishment and the employees had been given a considerable number of lectures in regards to the importance of the hotels reputation and already a half dozen uniformed individuals had appeared from the crowd to form a polite yet insistent barrier between the fuming patron and young woman still on the ground, after all a vociferous altercation was the last thing which was needed at this point. The young woman would likely be dealt with in due time, however it was clear that the staff was focused upon the more temperamental of the two parties.

Really it should have ended with that, there was no need for Zephyr himself to get involved, yet as has already been stated alcohol is a double edged sword and though it had performed rather admirably in reducing the hessians migraine it had also worn away a good portion of the mercenary's typically taciturn personality and so the elemental found himself shifting his gaze downwards to glance at the two prone figures before remarking in a dry, unamused tone.

"You know, they have rooms for that sort of thing. Just upstairs I believe."

He took another drink.

Petunia had fallen on her butt quite unceremoniously with her legs splayed. Her elbow had landed under her in an odd twisted position and the waiter was scrambling over her. He was trying to stand up around petunia’s kicking, kneeing, and eye gouging form.

Shame on him. Idiots not watching where petunia the insect queen had been walking. Some how in the tangle of limbs Petunia’s ach in her elbow had come to her attention, and the poor waiter had attempted to get up to his feet around her only to have the toe of her high heal find his groin. This resulted on one thing that was a positive. The man was no longer on top of petunia in a tangled mess. He was now off to the side of where she was her own tabled mess.

She pushed herself into a sitting position smoothing her hair back into it’s tamer position. Her curls were gosteled, and no longer in perfect spirals but when petunia smoothed her bangs back, the mess and disorder added to her look. It was a plus, even though it displeased her.

"You know, they have rooms for that sort of thing. Just upstairs I believe."

“Funny. An expert on hotels. Are we? You’re either an incredibly popular man, or an incredibly lonely one. Either way I pitty you and yes, I know, I’m the on on the floor.” Petunia glanced up between stray curls and her green eyes flashed back and forth from the waiters who were so well trained when it came to messes like this, to the one on the floor who was trying to ease himself onto his knees, then to Mr.Bubbles. Her target definitely had noticed her. Wasn’t that in a book somewhere about assassination nonos? Oh well. It wasn’t like he really had a chance anyways.

And why was no one helping her up yet! Petunia crossed her arms and her ankles, waiting.

((OOC: Apologies for the late response, I shall ) endeavor not to fall so behind in the future.))

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The florid females caustic comeback caused an expression of wry amusement to dance across the elementals features as he nonchalantly placed his glass down upon the alabaster tablecloth and gifted the prone woman with his full attention, taking in her appearance for the first time and idly noting how young she appeared, she couldn’t have been more than 16 or so, barely older than Katrina, yet as the hessians azure eyes briefly traveled southwards however he found himself revising his initial assessment as his gaze traversed the length of the emerald gown and the well defined contours it so proudly displayed.

Youthful appearance or not that simply wasn’t the body of a minor and so Zephyr subconsciously shifted his opinion of the girl from clumsy, ignorant and immature adolescent to clumsy, ignorant and immature woman. The key difference between the two categories being that the amount of leeway or tolerance the girl had been granted being rather reduced. Still though the multiple libations the mercenary had drained had placed him in, if not an amiable mood then at least an archly one and thus he deigned to respond to the ingénue’s final words, adopting a condescending cadence as he spoke down to the girl.

“Well at least you know your place if nothing else, however you seem to have forgotten that little girls should be seen and not heard, so if you would kindly keep your peace perhaps the staff here will treat you to a juice.”

It was admittedly a cheap shot however the elemental knew from experiencing how infuriating it was to simply be dismissed because of one’s apparent age. Besides if the woman had no control over her temper and persisted in acting like a toddler having a tantrum then it was only right that she be treated as such. After all what was the worst she could do? Her current attire precluded the possibility of anything approaching an effective physical assault and if past minute or so were any indication she’d hardly be able to muster much of a fight in any case. Her verbal wit also seemed to be rather lacking and given the legislature that was so recently introduced the odds of her being a mutant were also rather low.

At around this time the hotel staff had succeeded in leading away the other irate patron from the scene thereby bestowing an air of relative peace upon the lounge as the establishments few remaining personnel wandered among the remaining guests and endeavored to reassure them that nothing was overtly amiss as they made their way over to the petulant female who had yet to rise from the floor.