Sex dungeon? Ruari visibly paled. She really didn't want to know what Torrence got up to in his free time and with whom. She sighed softly as she frowned, her rain cloud grey eyes flicking around the dark interior with disappointment. Ruari liked bright places, like vintage tearooms and bridal salons. This place, however, looked like it had been hand-carved out of lava. It was hot and damp and sweaty and she didn't feel at all comfortable.
"Torrence, don't," she was quick to say, reaching out for her cousin as he shoved someone but her fingers only gently brushed the back of his shirt. Chewing on her lower lip, she felt like she wanted to cry. Clamping her lips shut, she offered him a brief shake of her head, as though to tell him it was fine. It wasn't, clearly, but at least they were spending time together. However, she was glad to be scooted along. Ruari looked over her shoulder as the man stirred, on his knees and getting to his feet with effort and for a second, she thought he might just attack them both.
"I know this is difficult for you," she said in a low voice, "but keep your hands to yourself. You just might lose a finger. And then how are you going to make the girls happy?" Ruari asked as she anxiously reached up and began to thread a lock of hair through her long fingers.
She looked at Torrence with trepidation. She was stuck here. The place was packed, twenty people deep, obscuring the exit. Quick as a flash, she turned her head to face him with wide eyes. "Are you joking?" The tall blonde asked sharply, her eyes boggling. As if to prove her point, the sickening crunch of bone on bone extracted a reaction from the crowd. Someone had gone down. She'd heard them hit the blood soaked mat and her stomach churned. "I don't like it," she told Torrence weakly as she felt a bit light-headed and sick.
Ruari placed her hands on the bar and soon retracted them with a grimace. The old wood was dirty and sticky and she reached out for the bottle of beer before taking a swift sip. The fact that Torrence knew the barman well enough should really have been enough to ring alarm bells. The women here didn't know they were related and she could feel a dozen sets of eyes on her as she stood close to him. She imagined it was unsurprising to see him with someone new; he changed girls more often than she changed her underwear.
"Why?" She asked, appalled. "It's a bit…grim, don't you think?" She asked, looking around and shifting awkwardly. "Why does she keep looking at me?" Ruari asked, nodding at a tall brunette with long glossy dark hair. "Someone you didn't hang out with after?" She quipped. Ruari was in a great, settled relationship with Hal. Were they moving as fast as she would have liked? No. But after screwing things up in school, she was more than happy to take it easy. That girl, though, was fixated on her cousin. She had dark eyes and wore lipstick that was too bright for her skin, dressed in leather and tattoos. To say she was scared was a bit of an understatement.
Sterling vs. Goodwin. The names meant absolutely nothing to her. "I don't think I want to," she told him, genuinely uncomfortable with the idea. This was against everything she stood for. She was very much a love-and-peace kind of girl but this dark place seemed to he zapping her. She looked as though she was fighting an internal battle but the idea of pocket money sounded nice. Ruari wasn't exactly flush at the moment. The shop was doing really well but there was the fabric and her assistant and the rent and everything --
"Two galleons on Goodwin," she told Torrence, dropping the coins into his open palm.