The Voice - Soho
Yesterday had been a day. Citlali was still sore from having her ass kicked in the spirit realm and even with the magical healing her new little turi had given her arm, it remained sore and the movements slowed. She just needed a night to relax and recollect herself. Her new wards would need more attention and healing but for right now Citlali needed to plan. She lifted her head to smile at the club. She had found the little club in Soho the first week here. It always had good drinks, an eager crowd, and even decent music.
She breezed in with a coy smirk to the bouncer. Her dark eyes scanned over the crowd, taking in the mood. It was fairly relaxed, the eagerness a simmer under the surface. The scent of sweat, alcohol, and human assaulted her senses in a delightful way. A deep breath with a low purr buried under the music as she made her way to the bar. She had specifically worn her favorite dress for the night she had planned for herself; a skintight mini in a soft tan that made her skin glow in a golden hue and her legs miles long. Her long dark hair was twisted up and off her throat a few curls having fallen free.
Once her drink was ordered and delivered, Citlali turned on her stool lounging at the bar. After her first sip a clarity hit that the music she was listening to had an underlying static to it that didn't happen with CDs but rather a microphone. Her brain also started to process the fact that the words being sung in the low male voice were not in English but rather a Spanish folk song from her childhood. Her dark eyes looked up in confusion settling on the familiar figure on the stage.