Dystopia pauses to wonder how one might give or receive wings. She looks behind her own shoulder, catching a glimpse of crimson among the peach and ivory streaks. Wondering for a moment if they would fall off if she pulled hard enough, she tries to give one a tug and winces when that plan fails.

"Musta been a generous friend," she notes, patting her aching shoulder.

Swinging back around, she places her own weapon across her lap.

"Got one like it at home," she agrees, cheerfully. "Came with its own little vial of blood. Only lasted three uses though. Five uses, my butt!"

Watches as Dystopia tries to pull off one of her wings. "That must hurt" she thinks as she watches Dystopia grimace.

"Indeed they were." She nods and flexes her shoulders, causing the wings to move.

"Ah, yes. I got a similar vial. However I haven't opened mine yet. I figured the salesman was full of himself."She sighed mentally as she remembered the salesman trying to convince her of the vial's "many uses".

Dystopia sends a ripple of movement through her own wings, disturbing the reddening area she had formed attempting to remove one of them. Although the wounded one trembled, the movement looked overall smooth and rather hypnotic. The beige markings seemed to spin, twirling gently across the white canvas until the fae stilled.

"Pfft. He also told me that it wouldn't stain. He lied."

"I'd say he was just trying to do his job but we both know I'd be lying. He was trying to make a quick buck. Oh well. It will still go well with my collection." She grins, her canines flashing in the light. She glances around and notices how quiet it is.

Dystopia had wandered away when Wulf had turned to look around. She couldn't quite remember why she had left, but had a feeling that it had something to do with finding the bathroom, which she had. She had also managed to figure out how to detach her wings and had done so, and was now returning in a change of clothes. Other than her wings, her hair seemed to have gone missing as well.

She returns and wordlessly seats herself near Wulf, wondering for a moment if she had been missed. Shrugging her sore shoulders- It had taken some effort to figure out how to remove those wings- Dystopia tries to find a way to lean her head comfortably on the high table.

"Mmmph," she answers to the familiar voice.

Dystopia turns, her head leaning on the bottom edge of a table, staring at the rather elaborate stain of pink that had appeared before her eyes. Ringing a pinky through one of hoops and pulling gently, she blinks at him.

"Cheap salespeople. Or crappy tables. I'm not sure which."

Having given up on finding a comfortable position against the table, Dystopia carefully detaches her hand from the dangling jewelery and slowly pushes herself into an upright position. Scooting to sit sideways on the chair, she leans against the back of it and murmurs quietly in half-contentment.

"Wouldn't help," she replies, motioning vaguely near her head to indicate her height.

Wanders out of the shadowy corner where she'd fallen asleep. "Hello again Star and Aisha. How are you two doing?" Yawning she heads over to the bar where she makes herself some coffee with Bailey's.

Leaning on the counter she enjoys the aroma of her coffee. "I'm doing alright. How are you?"