Starter for death--lotus
The ambiance was about as laid-back as you could have found in Upper Noxus, with dimmed electric lights and the quiet murmurings of furtive patrons. The clientele was a mixed assortment of mid-level officers of Noxus’ military, and the shady-looking individuals that they normally wouldn’t have wanted to be seen associating with. But the speakeasy that they were all in was a fairly well-hidden one, a place where privacy was respected.
Seated at the bar was a certain red-haired woman in tight black leathers and sheathed blades, whose reputation and identity were well-known enough in both civilized Noxus and its underworld to ensure that she was given a wide berth, like shoals of fish parting way before an apex predator. That was, until a man wearing midnight-black robes deigned to take the seat at her side, his brazen act as surprising as his sudden appearance where previously none had known about this man even walking through the door.
“A top up of whatever the good Lady du Couteau is having, and a glass of the same for me.” Renzus told the bartender, allowing his hood to fall back from his head to rest on his shoulders. He offered Katarina a sideways glance with his grey eyes, the barest smile forming on his face. “I don’t suppose you mind, do you?”
