Hedonistic at heart, the Flood's appearance swarms her senses like a kaleidoscope of scars and silver and deep, deep blue, and for a second Dahlia can do little more than stare and openly admire. In a plain, damp dress and with dirtied feet, she'd be waif-like if not for the buxom curves and healthy flush to her cheeks from the House's warmth. "The stories don't do you justice," she breathes, coy and smiling.
"My apologies. I had heard that the Flood was the owner of this establishment. I only hoped I might meet you. My name is Dahlia." With a little bob of a curtsey, she smooths an impossible crease out in her dress. "I also wondered whether anyone else had come by this Longnight? I'm looking for someone."
"My apologies. I had heard that the Flood was the owner of this establishment. I only hoped I might meet you. My name is Dahlia." With a little bob of a curtsey, she smooths an impossible crease out in her dress. "I also wondered whether anyone else had come by this Longnight? I'm looking for someone."
let me put my lips to something
let me wrap my teeth around the world
let me wrap my teeth around the world
