(@Stuffy McPatch) The party was bustling with people. Crystal wine glasses hung from hands nonchalantly, and Petra's eyes traced their fingers thoughtfully. Imagine, she mused, being so comfortable around wealth that you could wave around a glass like that and not feel fear of shattering it and having to pay the consequences. Her target was a middle-aged man named James Lawrence. He had caused difficulties for her employer, a fact that was being celebrated with the party tonight. She smoothed her red dress as if to reassure herself, and she gradually worked her way into the crowd around him. His brown hair was touched with grey around the temples, and his smile was full of clean, straight, white teeth. He had warm brown eyes, and in another world, Petra may have thought he was handsome. Unfortunately, there was no place for such observations, and her demeanor became casual as she laughed lightly at an anecdote a young, slightly nervous man produced.