[Sodium_noir] Hell is Other People - Aurora

[FlameFlash]

> Repost for Aurora
>
> Sinclair Party
> Aurora, Jack, Christine
> Mage, Enigma, Mage
>
> "So," Christine says presently, "I'm wondering about hitting Raindogs in
> Neon City. Great place. Any thoughts?"
>
> Her wandering attention is arrested suddenly.
>
> "Say  . . . Aurora? You acquainted with any rich old ladies?" Christine
> manages to look both intrigued and puzzled. " 'Cos you're getting some
> attention."
>
> Christine nods vaguely toward Aurora's right. "Check it out."

Aurora turns, confused.
>
> At a little distance, there is indeed an old, old lady staring at Aurora
> with frank interest. She is leaning on the arm of a very burly, dark
> uniformed man with "chauffeur" written all over him.
>
> Despite her antiquity and the strong suggestion of frailty, the woman is
> superbly dressed - although Christine suspects that it would make anyone
> else look like they'd got trapped in a harem tent collapse. As Christine
> returns the stare (her own wavering a little, due to certain focus issues)
> the old lady smiles and tilts her chin in a small greeting then turns
> slightly towards her escort who leans down, listening deferentially. After a
> tiny pause, the couple begin to move steadily toward Aurora, Jack and
> Christine.
>
> Close to, the old lady is delicate and fragile as a Sevres figurine, her
> curls artfully sculpted and white as porcelain. She has a soft,
> grandmotherly face belied slightly by bright  lipstick and intense mascara.
> Her smile as she gazes at Aurora, clearly the main subject of her interest,
> is serene. Christine stumbles slightly, clutching at Jack's hand to steady
> her. She grips it so tightly that her nails dig painfully into his palm.
> "No. Not now. Not here!" Only Jack would hear Christine mutter this under
> her breath.  She glances up at him, suddenly pale. "I need to . . . some air
> . . .?" she says tensely.
>
> The elderly socialite pays this minor byplay only cursory interest. She
> leans toward Aurora, faintly conspiritorial. Her perfume is sweet and a
> little strange but oddly familiar.
>
> "Please forgive me, my dear," she says, her accent pure Mayflower
> descendant. "I couldn't help admiring your gown. Gorgeous thing! It's Worth
> isn't it? And vintage? It's far too lovely to be a modern copy. It must be
> 80 years old - almost as old as I am. But superb condition! A marvellous
> find!"

Aurora blushes, looks for Christine's support but finds it lacking as
she seems to be having her own issues.  "Thank you... my friend and I
found it... perfectly preserved just recently, she insisted I wear it
tonight."

Aurora's cautious tag back into Noir