She liked sipping straws with lots of colour. He liked big gulps of poison. They were a match made in heaven.

A disappointing night didn't stop her from trying to rekindle -something. But she was tired of dancing, but insatiable. Anyone else wouldn't take offense to the bunch of losers hanging over their drinks at the bar, but on a night like this -the only night they were going to be in town- Chiana thought something had to change in this shady bar.

Her touch was laden with poison, seduction and manipulation. Her lipstick a tease of passion and her smile meant you were never going to get it. A tear meant run. She wasn't going to give any second chances.

She had decided that if there wasn't going to be any fun, she was going to make it fun. And the muscle at the bar saw her coming.

"Your shipmates have left." he told her with a grumble in his voice that didn't take kindly to trouble. The fading party lights reflected off his armadillo skin.

With a finger she tickled his sagging neck flap like a cat playing with a ball of string.

"You-s don't have to worry about-s me." she said. Catching her own drunken voice she cleared her throat and settled down. Grabbed the ledge of the bar just to be safe. Without anyone looking of course.

"One more drink and then I'll kick you out." the armadillo boss said and his eyes turned in their sockets to become red with perfect night vision. Chiana had no idea what kind of species he was.

When the bartender put the drink down in front of her she was determined not to touch it for the rest of the night. That way she could stay all night. Rules are rules, right?

"Are you going to finish that drink?" the platinum-haired Sebacean with the pale cheekbones at the bar asked her in his own particular accent. He was leaning lazily over the bar toward her with a cigarette hanging sadly from the corner of his lips.

She could barely hear him over the loud music, but she caught his deep eyes. Except they weren't that deep. He was waiting.

"I'm not gonna."

He curled his cheek into sort of a smile. Not impressed, merely amused.

He had a leather coat draped over his stool which he usually wore over his red collared shirt. He lit the cigarette with a lighter and put it back in his leather pants. The cigarette burned and smoke escaped his mouth just before he pushed himself away from the bar and walked over toward the oversized Sheyang with the raslak dripping from his eyes.

She watched him, but all he did was grab her drink and chuck it down his throat in one full gulp, then wipe his mouth on his sleeve. It wouldn't have surprised Chiana if he added a loud burp, but he did pound his chest after he put the glass down.

"The night sure didn't last long." Chiana said to herself.

"It never does, sugar." the man said, satisfied with tragedy. Then he burped and his eyes turned glazed. "I'm off."

She expected a little bit more than that. Somehow she got hooked. Just a twist of his skinny wrist and his drunken lips fell on hers quite by accident in a drunken slip of his shoe. But there's never any accidents with Chiana.

She could feel the button of his cuff press against the palm of her hand. Letting go felt less disorientating than it did before.

"Wanna have some fun?" she asked him.

A single kiss had turned him into a bumbling fool. He put his hand to his lips and found a drop of blood on his index finger. In a split second of panic and instinct he'd turned and pressing their lips together had pressed his fang against the inside of his lip and drawn blood.

He liked it. He licked the drop of blood off his lips.

"All the fun in the world, sugar."

He grabbed his coat. Chiana'd always been a sucker for a man wearing leather.