a toast, then, to mayhem and worse;

She preened herself to his compliment of how she’d changed, actually....fairly fond of the fact that he thought so. Her eyes widened at his mention of getting shot twice, Grace forbid, and she laughed to his tease of returning the little favor of lacing the pipe she’d stolen from him. “I should hope it’s laced with something new, then. I have little use for an aphrodisiac these days.” She replied with a smirk, blowing another smoke ring in defiance of his tease.

Then he brought out the commission she’d come for, attention arrested by the silk bag he pulled from his side like a cat with a new plaything. She bought it closer, curiosity softening her sharp edges as she traded it for a much heavier bag that produced a heavy THUMP on the table, filled to the brim with gold she didn’t spare a second glance for.

What she pulled from the silken bag was a true wonder, a masterpiece of gold and red silk, feminine and terrifying all at once. She’d expected a humble ring from the last time they’d spoken, but bless his terrible memory if he decided to produce this instead.

She put it on, amazed at the comfort of it, and decided to test out his magic description. She brought up a sound in her throat, felt it deepen and rumble, and released what could only be a lion’s roar in the modest smoke parlor, making the inhabitants scream and flinch like a monster had suddenly turned in their midst.

She fell back among the pillows, laughing with her own voice at the sheer delight of it. “Oh, this is perfect! Just what I needed for my ensemble! Grace above, this makes me far too eager to take it for a spin.”
 
Leaning towards Aleister, a devilish glint in her red eyes, she crooned, “What say we find that terrible tax man of yours and pull a little jest? It’ll take a little bit of a shopping trip, a little preparation, but I daresay it would be the jest of the year should we pull it off.”