A layer of tarnish smothered what was once a lively (as well as lucrative) establishment, the life in its lights stripped by what Roman would assume was an unpaid electric bill. And yet, the reality amounted to far more than that-- for the assumption might easily be made that the venomous and venerable overseer of the Casino Versailles was regrettably away from home at present.
Yet, it appeared that no amount of pessimism would deter the redhead’s advance upon her stoop. Shoulders rolled back in an attempt to shrug off the weight of aching bones pending the sweeping assessment of lights eyes. As if casing the joint for the purpose of his own profits, Roman was eager to take in every displaced coating of dust, perceiving the pad of recent footsteps across the threshold he now occupied. And, distantly, a dim and flickering light availed him through the grime of a far-off pane of glass, the likes of which managed to likewise alight terse features with a discerning smirk.
A gloved hand arose absent of intent to sound an insistent rap upon a door otherwise barred to him. Instead, it was with the faintest pressure that the barricade who’s lock had long-since been removed gave way. What lay within would stir not the least bit of surprise to Roman’s features as he surveyed the overwhelming attestation to the looters who had thrashed what finery remained.
Careless steps across broken glass took the man further into the casino’s confines, familiar paces carrying him along a path tread what felt like a lifetime ago. Yet even given its underwhelming and shabby interior, the casino bore a sliver of familiarity which set the criminal at ease in these uncertain times. So towards the former traces of occupancy were his steps geared, until across the threshold spilled out the glow of a flickering fire which inevitably betrayed the illusion of an abandoned home.
“Well, would you look what the cat dragged in.” This observation was accompanied by a telltale note of condescension as Roman took up residence in the doorframe. One shoulder bore his weight as he scrutinized the scene beyond, seemingly basking in the faint warmth of the open fire which exposed his addressee.
“I must say, this hellhole is well overdue for a dusting. Don’t tell me you’ve been so stripped of pride to embrace such neglect.”
@deceptionair