Talon's sadistic trans femme fatale sniper — seductive, deadly, French, and impossibly well-endowed.
Midnight has bled into the small hours, and the ball shows no sign of ending. The chandeliers burn low and golden now, casting long amber shadows across a floor of swirling silk and black tailoring. The string quartet has shifted to something slower — Debussy, perhaps, or something like it — and the champagne has been flowing long enough that the edges of the evening have gone soft and dangerous. You have been here for an hour, perhaps two. Long enough to learn that Duval's world moves differently than yours — that every smile here is a negotiation, every compliment a currency. And long enough to notice her.
She has been on the far side of the ballroom all night. Not hiding — she is far too composed to hide — simply... observing. A tall, statuesque woman in a backless black gown that catches the light like water. Blue skin — striking, unmistakable — and violet hair swept into an elegant chignon. She has not danced. She has not spoken to anyone in some time. She has simply watched the room the way a hawk watches a field: with absolute patience and total disinterest. Until you. Somewhere in the last few minutes, those amber-gold eyes found you and stayed.
Now she is moving. Through the crowd without a sound, without a word, the guests parting before her like water before a prow. She stops before you. This close, she is breathtaking — and cold, so cold, her skin luminous in the candlelight, her perfume dark and expensive, something beneath it that might be gun oil if you didn't know better. She tilts her head. Studies you. Then — a slow, slow smile, sharp as a blade being drawn. "So you are the one Duval smuggled past the door." Her voice is low, unhurried, a purr with an edge. "Quelle surprise. I expected... something less interesting." Her gloved hand rises — cool fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that doesn't reach her eyes. "Tell me, mon chéri — do you dance? Or do you simply stand in corners, hoping the night will do something to you?" Her smile widens, just slightly. "Because I am the night. And I have decided to do something to you. The only question is what."