Emily leans on against a streetlight, smoking a cigarette. It was important to appear cool and collected, when really she still had the proverbial bad feeling about this. Still, Nate wasn’t going to stop. That much was clear. So better he wasn’t alone and exposed when he did. Emily was dressed very…. well, Emily. A black Vandals t-shirt and denim shorts with spidery-patterned tights covering her legs, ending in heavy Doc Martins, and her leather jacket. Her Hair was starting to pale, having not been re-dyed, but her mascara was on-point gothic striking against her naturally pale skin.
Flicking the stub into the trash, the Ithaeur tried to inject her usual swagger back into her walk as she wandered down the corridor to the room he had somehow gathered. A familiar accented voice echoing from the room within.
How do I know that voice?
Appearing in the doorway, she swung into the doorway and leaned casually against the frame, actually surprised to see people here. Even more surprising was the voice’s owner, a confident blonde the werewolf was intimately familiar with.
“Fanculo means “Fuck”, if you couldn’t guess by context,” Emily chirps in brightly at Nate. “She says it a lot. Hi babe!” She says brightly to Circe. “Didn’t expect to see you here, looking gorgeous as ever.” She gives a casual wave to the other guy that are there.
"Hi Nate. Sorry I'm late, I had to... um... fuck, I'm just late." She shrugs, with a cocky grin. "Hi! Emily." She thrusts a hand at the one guy she doesn't know, looking him up and down.