[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]if she were modest, she'd probably blush a little. instead, she's anything but and the compliment earns a satisfied purr. cleaning up well is something they both might be good at, although she's certain he's the better looking of the two. something about that messy hair could probably do in even the nicest of girls. add a suit? she's surprised her knees are still working.

the target in question has been at the edge of her sight all evening. wherever he goes, she drags abner with her. looking for the best opportunity to get to work, perhaps. or simply just observing until she's certain he's drunk enough for her to disarm. either way, the moment is close at hand and she's knocking back her drink just as abner tosses his glass. she expects to hear a shatter but nothing comes.

her glass is discarded a little easier, simply slid back in the direction of the bartender without a spared glance to know if he snagged it or not.

"ready," she confirms with a grin. pushing away from the bar brings her teetering on heels, dress snagging slightly. she doesn't bother to listen for a tear. instead, she's already directing her eyes to the man of the hour. if her count is correct, he's on his ninth drink of the night. whiskey, a man after her own heart. and while she's confident in her abilities to get in, snag a heart, and get out, there's still mild hesitation in the way she lingers by abner's side. "you gonna be nearby?"

if anything goes wrong, she'll at least have him to save her ass.

Abner Armstrong

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]confirmation is a comfort, enough to bring a soft sigh of relief. she's used to situations like these, sure, but there's always that gnawing sense of anxiety that comes with them. one wrong move and the possible outcome could be her knocking on death's door. a chilling thought, to say the least.

her head turns to meet his eyes when his tone shifts. his posture changes into something she hasn't quite seen from him before and she's not quite sure where to place it. "it's okay," she murmurs and it's not quite confident enough to be her usual level of work. her hands brush against the fabric of her dress as if needing something to occupy themselves. "just stay close." the extra concept of protection is appreciated but if he needs it himself then what will happen? briefly she thinks of the pokemon she's brought with her. in particular, her zoroark could provide the cover of an illusion to mask an escape.

and hopefully it won't come to that.

she flashes him a surprisingly soft smile before stepping away. beneath the shift from one dim light to another, her facial expression changes and by the time the next light glows overhead, she's back to wearing that confidence like her cat mask. better get to work, kitty cat.

the urge to spare a glance back at him fades with the click of her heels until she's sliding up to their target with a fake giggle and an overly exaggerated show of inebriation. "hey, handsome!" the man turns to stare and if a jaw could actually fall to the floor, the man would scramble to pick it up. "need a drinking partner?" he's quick to nod, to usher her into his side with a lecherous smile. and now, it's showtime.

Abner Armstrong

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]so far, so good. granted every time the man's hand strayed from her hip to her ass, she had to bite back the urge to growl. other than that, it has been surprisingly easy to charm her way into his evening.

except, she should know by now that the easy schemes always seem to go terribly wrong. they had been no way for them to know that this very ship was drifting into the trap of pirates but if they had known, perhaps they could've just picked another night. instead, their scheme is about to derailed and fast.

every time the man turns away to order them another round of drinks, she's getting closer to lifting more cards out of his wallet. it starts with one that's in too pristine of a condition to be used frequently. and then another and another until she's certain she'll have the imprint of his card numbers on her chest for a week. and as she knocks back each drink, her eyes shift to find abner, to make sure he's still there.

he is and she's lulled into a sense of safety. at least, until the ship lurches and she's sent forward into the man's body. his grip on her tightens and alarms go off but which ones are just her paranoia and not danger? some, none? "what's that?" she tilts her head up at the man, fighting to keep still and not yank her body away. he merely shrugs and those damn hands wander again and that's about the time she's had enough.

before she can slip away, however, smoke begins to filter onto the floor like an eerie coating of fog.

Abner Armstrong

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]everything literally descends into chaos the moment the smoke is noticed. people scream and scramble and damn, if she didn't want to do that very thing. while she's almost a pro at shoving herself into dangerous situations, this is outside of her realm of expertise. out of her control and that powerless feeling has her rooted in place.

the man seems to be unfazed, as if he expected this to happen. and maybe if she were paying enough attention, she would have noticed that he's the only one not whipped up into a panic. okay, she's chalking this up to a shitshow now and it's time to scram. his grip tightens on her and the scowl that twists its way onto her face isn't amused in the slightest. "you can let go now," she grits out. he barely has time to before a familiar body is blinking into existence between them.

zam. an audible sigh of relief escapes as she backs away with the new protection shielding her. she doesn't miss the way the man's pervy face dissolves into anger and it's definitely enough to make her stomach churn. louder alarms ring in her ears. not good, not good. a hand shifts to yank up the bottom of her dress, a garter belt holding pokeballs revealed beneath smooth fabric. she's quick to usher out her zoroark as if the extra layer of protection will be enough to quell that flare of anxiety.

giada's turning as he approaches, every nerve in her body screaming to just book it out of there. there's a falter in her footing, a stumble that almost sounds like a snapping heel beneath the pressure of danger. it catches her off guard, her body shifting until she's leaning against malizia for support. damn, those drinks had to hit now of all times? fucking hell. "i'm fine," she gets out and it's half a lie but it's fine. smoothing her hair back into place and somehow managing to stand up mostly straight, she's giving him a once over without hesitation. "are you okay? what the fuck is going on?" this wasn't part of the plan. a hand shifts to pat at the bust of her dress as if to confirm that the cards are, indeed, still stuck to her boobs. they are and there's definitely imprints of numbers. yikes. "i did."

a brief moment of recognizing morals has her glancing away to the frenzied crowd, to the patrons that scramble for an escape. do they just leave them to whatever fate waits them? ugh, that sounds terrible.

Abner Armstrong